The Angels and The Dogs
by Twisted Ink Incorporated
Summary: AU. After over a century, the civil war between the Church and the Military is approaching a dire climax. Caught in the middle are many people, both enemy and friend alike, drawn together by fate and love. This is the story of the Angels and the Dogs of the Military. Many pairings: SoRiku, AkuDemy, Zexon, CloudXSephiroth, slight Zemyx and Akuroku. Full summary inside. R&R.
1. Year 2149

**Full Summary: In a world where war is raging between a country's (the Kingdom's) Military and its Church, Sora is a child of the Gods; an Angel. He is the only Angel of the Church that has ever been able to hear the Gods, along with the rare power of pure light. His Guardian Riku came out of nowhere with a mysterious, terrible past and a heart  
filled with darkness. On the other side of the desert to the East, Roxas is a simple dog of the Military that has the never-before-seen power of being able to detect Angels among the normal population. His best friend Axel has a  
strange affinity for fire, which puts him at the top right beside Roxas. After a chance meeting between the Military dogs and Church disciples, strange occurences rise and take hold of Roxas and Sora. All the while the inner politics and outer conflicts of war rage, building steadily towards a disastrous climax.**

**AN: This is a change-of-pace sort of story. It revolves around a civil war type setting, as stated in the summary, between the Church and the Military of the country. Despite the AU status, the characters are as accurate as I could make them, and all will be explained in time. If not, leave me a review with your questions and I will respond at the beginning of the next chapter. This is the most extensive plot I have ever written, so I apologize if there are ups and downs that don't add up.**

**I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

**RATED T for cursing and violence.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy; all credit goes to Square Enix and Disney.**

PROLOGUE: War

War. It is both the problem and the resolution of the imagined or defined problems of a world, nation, or people. There are always two or more sides involved in a power struggle, trying to gain the authority to put their beliefs into action or create law and an understanding. There is always another viewpoint to argue, morals to contradict, and people to destroy or command. There is always one side in power, and another that bends and obeys. Leaders and followers. Otherwise, there is supremacy conflict and instability that necessitates using force to show that neither side is going to back down. Thus, war is started.

The midlife- the time axis of the evolution of a species- is riddled with wars and dominating figures clawing their way to the top of the food chain to try and steer the whole of society in their direction. Before, in the primal stages of a species, unity is a necessity. And after, in the advanced and nearing final stages, the species is in unity out of knowledge, equality, and superior intellect. The midlife, though, is a cluttered variety of opposing intellects working in a world where life is only lost in illness, old age, and murder. There are no feelings that force thousands, millions, of people together in companionship; instead, there is anarchy.

In a small world where man struggled through the midlife of its species, a Kingdom was led by its Military, which was led by men who only sought to invade and control the rest of the planet through violence and hatred. Slowly, one by one, many countries fell to the soldiers of the Kingdom, no matter how many thousands of miles of water separated the lands. Thousands of people died on their knees, begging for their lives; leaders and kings brought their palms to the ground, sacrificing their pride to save their people, only to be mocked and cut down in cold blood. No one was spared. Only enough were left alive to keep the lands running and to keep the steadily growing ranks of soldiers fed and wealthy.

But an ostensibly quiet, although steady, unrest was budding underneath the iron gauntlets of the Military. War had commenced around the world, and now civil war was about to break out in the Kingdom. Words of hope and fear were whispered at every corner, telling of the Church's outrage against the Military. The Gods did not look kindly on murderers and the greed of man, and the Kingdom was beginning to look like a country of cutthroats and cowards. The Church would not stand for the careless bloodshed and suffering brought by their Military.

Every heart, every face, began to take a side. The Church and the Military, Light and Dark, Good and Evil. The Military wanted power and profits, the Church just wanted peace. And so the prince of the Kingdom, a man named Lamar Shinra, called upon the leader of the Church, Aerith Gainsborough. She entered his office hoping to sway her prince's heart and make him see the devastation his Military was causing inside and outside the Kingdom, but she left barely alive in the arms of her closest disciples. She had only just let a smile grace her lips for her prince before bullets were ripping through her body.

And so, war broke out.

The people of the Kingdom separated like ink being torn from a page; there were no more gray areas, there was only black and white. The Church moved immediately across the desert to the West, as far from the Military bases as possible, while attempting to nurture their beloved leader back to health. The first attack was by the Military, but the one that began the heavy struggles was the Church's retaliation. The Western Branch command center of the Military, the closest Military building to the desert that separated the two sides, was blow apart and torn to the ground by hundreds of rebels dedicated to the Church. Hundreds of soldiers were wounded but not one person lost a life. When the Military destroyed a sacred chapel on the far edge of the desert, they were not as kind. Fifty three civilians lost their lives trying to protect their chapel, and another seventeen were taken into Military custody, to never be seen again. Years passed, yet the civil war remained everlasting. Troops were brought home, all focus now on keeping their own country from falling into ruin. The Military far outnumbered the Church, but the Church had powers of which the Military could never duplicate. The Church had the Gods on their side.

CHAPTER ONE: The Dogs and The Angels

Year 2149

"I mean, why the hell couldn't we even have a ratter or a seven miller cycle? Saix must be _crazy_ to send us out like this. It must be like, what, a hundred and seven freaking degrees out here? Man, why the _hell_-

"Axel, shut up."

It was entirely too hot for Axel's mouth to be running like this, in a way that made Roxas's skin heat with frustration. The sun beat down without mercy, sand spraying over them with the harsh, dry wind to scrape and scratch skin until blood began to bubble to the surface. It was like stumbling through a thick marsh while shards of glass were whipping past, some catching onto pale, fragile skin and searing a trail of red. Their boots left marks in the sea of tan grains only to be swept away moments later, and the coats and scarves they wore only caught the sweat that poured off of them, giving little shelter from the force of the elements. Exhaustion had come two hours ago, and all their movements through the desert were fueled on desperation and rage. Roxas clicked on the handheld radio yet again and spat into it,

"8-13 to base, coordinates!" silence for many long moments, and the young blonde snarled, "Saix, coordinates! We're stuck out here and have no directives! We need a little help, here!"

Again, like the countless times before, there was no response.

Roxas stopped abruptly, making Axel come to a halt behind him.

"Damn it!" The radio hit the sand with barely a soft _thunk, _and Roxas collapsed beside it, legs crossed tightly. His elbows braced on them, and he hung his head in his hands silently. The wind roared around them still, having no care for their dire predicament. Roxas could get up and keep moving, but the desire for rest swirled over his body, and as soon as he stopped moving his muscles practically vibrated and cried their gratitude. Nothing would silence the aches crawling around his skull, though, and he let out a heavy sigh, ignoring when footsteps made the sand around him shift. Axel kneeled next to him, attitude now switched from snarky and petulant to soft and concerned. His scarlet mane of hair danced in the wind, having escaped from the black scarf wrapped around his shoulders, neck, and over half his face. He tugged down the fabric so that Roxas could see the downward perk of his lips.

"Roxas, come on. Get up, man, it's not like we're going to die out here or anything."

"I know that," The blonde snapped, "but it's going to take days to get out of this desert. I can't believe Xigbar didn't pick us up. You think something happened?"

The red head smirked wryly, "The Cyclops probably got drunk halfway through the drive and forgot where we were meeting. We can still find our way back, but to do that we need to keep moving."

"The sun's going down and we've been walking since sunrise. I need a break."

The teenager turned his face back down and moodily buried his nose in his gloves once more. A hand clapped onto his shoulder and squeezed slightly in comfort.

"Fine, we'll settle down for the night. But why don't we do it at that oasis over there; I'm sure moping in the shade of one of those trees would be more appealing."

"Oasis?"

Dark blue eyes shot back up and scanned the sandy horizon Axel was pointing towards. Sure enough, trees were sprouting up like tiny skyscrapers from the flat land, barely visible through the sandstorm. Roxas shot to his feet without further prodding and practically sprinted towards salvation, leaving the abandoned radio without a second thought.

Axel sighed, pulling the cloth back up to cover his face, and scooped up the device before trotting after his younger companion. They'd only been in the desert for a day and a half but the blonde was already about to burst, snarling at everything Axel said to try and lighten the mood or voice his own frustrations. It was such a simple mission. Xaldin drove them through the desert to the West, dropped them off, they conducted a quick sweep and collected the data required. He supposed it started falling apart when they waited a day at the location Xigbar was supposed to meet them at before taking off into the desert on their own. It should have taken just a day, and now they were already bordering on three. The situation was wholly ridiculous and skin-crawling. He might have brushed off his concerns to appease Roxas, but Axel feared something much larger had happened back at base other than Xigbar's usual drunken forgetfulness.

The soldier watched the legs of his young companion kick up the cursed sand that could only be found in the slim patch of desert that separated the two forces of unrest in their country, and wondered to himself once more. Roxas was far too young to be in the Military, having joined when he was only twelve, but he was a genius at developing weaponry and picking up the smallest bits of information when no one else- not even experienced soldiers like Axel- would have been able to find a thing. So the redhead understood why the Military would want to keep the little blonde in their network of atrocities, but that didn't mean he had to like it. When Axel had met Roxas he'd felt the overwhelming intensity of pure emotion for the first time. He wanted to protect the boy, and had told General Xemnas exactly that. The man had laughed at him, but conceded. Ever since that day nearly four years ago, Roxas and Axel had gone on every mission together and had formed a bond that no one else in the military had. Well, besides Cloud and Leon maybe. They were friends, they watched each others' backs, and they kept smiling for each other even when they were lost in the middle of a God-forsaken desert.

The point is, Axel knew Roxas. So as soon as the teenager skidded to a halt at the rise of the hill shielding the oasis and his body stiffened, Axel knew something was very, very wrong. The boy's legs tensed into a defensive crouch and his hand went to his hip where his sword was strapped at the ready. Axel broke into a sprint, already drawing his rifle and clicking off the safety in one smooth motion. His breath halted in his throat when he slowed to a stop at his partner's side, the muzzle of his rifle pointed down at the figures under one of the huge palm trees. Acid green eyes glanced into the sights of the rifle before he lowered the weapon to his side, non-offensive but still at the ready.

"They're unconscious or dead, either way they're not moving," he murmured quietly.

Roxas gave a sharp nod and let his hand fall from the hilt of his blade before silently climbing down the side of the bowl-formation that shielded the oasis. Axel followed two steps behind him, eyes scanning the rest of the area for a hint of any other people that may be nearby, but he saw nobody or anything that could indicate that there were others. Just about a dozen palm trees scattered about in the sand, surrounding a pond of crystalline water about twenty feet in diameter. The two people were collapsed in the shade of the palm tree closest to the water; the taller one's toes were touching the edge of the water.

All they could see at first was that the people were clothed completely in white, and as they got closer they could tell that they were younger. When they were upon them, Axel's brow raised as he glanced at Roxas, who looked equally stupefied.

They were both male, one a boy around Roxas's age with wildly spiky blondish brunette hair and tan skin that held a healthy glow. An older teenager had the brunette tucked securely against his body, one arm tight around the tiny waist with his other hand locked in a tight grip on the kid's shoulder. This one had striking hair that gleamed like liquid silver where it spilled over the sand and across his pale face, with coal-black eyelashes and just the smallest of scars tracing from the corner of his jaw up diagonally to his right cheek bone. The silverette looked just a few years younger than Axel and had lean limbs that contained significantly more muscle than his small companion. Their chests rose and fell slightly with breath, so they were asleep and not dead, and though their intimate positioning looked awkward they were obviously comfortable and familiar with it.

Once more, Axel's eyes rose from the two to flicker around the surrounding area. He couldn't believe these people- for God's sake, they were _teenagers_- would leave themselves defenseless without having someone on guard. Even out-of-country travelers knew to keep their guard up, but these two looked as if they hadn't a care in the world. But there was no one else around; they wouldn't have let Axel and Roxas get this close if there was.

Roxas's voice was barely a whisper as he turned to Axel, "They're from the West."

"How do you figure?" Axel responded just as quietly, attention locked on the slumbering boys at their feet.

The blonde simply pointed at what Axel had missed; there were gold silk symbols stitched lightly into the somewhat dirty fabric of their clothes, just under the collar in the center of the chest and on each shoulder. They were elegant, swirling designs of a double-sided key bound by what might have been a halo. Another giveaway was the silver combat boots and rings of the same shade of metal encircling their wrists and arms.

Axel was just about to click off the safety of his rifle and execute them when Roxas's boot toe moved forward to nudge the shoulder of the brunette. As soon as it made contact, the older boy's eyes snapped open to reveal animalistic tropical green-blue. Before the soldiers grasped what was happening the teenager was on one knee, crouched defensively over his friend. A hand opened at his side and darkness suddenly rose from within the lithe body to curl around his hand and move outward to form a black sword in the shape of a demon's wing.

Caught off guard, Axel instinctively flicked off the safety as he jumped back and raised his gun without a second thought, finger tightening around the trigger. But Roxas's hand shot out and pushed the muzzle toward the ground, making the redhead stumble slightly, before he could even aim. The more experienced soldier shot his friend a scathing, disbelieving look, but the blonde was focused on the armed Church disciple, palms out in a gesture of peace.

No one said a word for many long, tense moments. Guarded aquamarine eyes were darting between the young soldiers, and to the rifle that was still held at the ready. Finally, Axel conceded with Roxas's silent expectation and grudgingly holstered the weapon at his hip, but their adversary looked as if he had no intention of banishing his weapon of darkness.

"Who are you?" the silverette asked when his comrade began to stir from an apparently deep nap.

Roxas was the first to speak up, so Axel stayed quiet, letting the kid take the lead,

"I'm Roxas and this is Axel. We're just passing through; we have no intention of harming you."

A bitter smirk crawled across the pale- almost pretty- face, "You're Military dogs, and we're with the Church. I doubt you're thinking of walking away with us alive."

The blonde merely smiled slightly, "All _I'm_ thinking about right now is getting out of this damn desert. I can't say I don't care who you are and I'm not interested in why you guys are out here, because you're presenting an awfully curious picture, but I don't want to kill anyone today other than the idiot beside me. I don't know what to say to make you trust me; I'm just hoping we can be a little civil here for a moment. So… ceasefire?"

The smirk fell into a puzzled frown, and another long while passed with a new pair of fearful eyes locked on the soldiers as well. The sharp aqua eyes fell to meet expressive blue ones, just shades lighter than Roxas's, and words seemed to pass through the connection. The brunette nodded slightly at last and the guarded disciple let the darkness around him disperse and draw back into him through his skin. Eyes were still defensive and mistrustful all around, though.

The brunette boy spoke up for the first time, pushing his defender to the side lightly,

"I'm Sora, and this is Riku. We're from the Cathedral of Keys, but we live at the Cathedral of Hearts."

He gave a disarming smile that took Axel off guard but outwardly had no effect on Roxas.

"We're from the Military's North Branch."

The silverette- Riku- raised an eyebrow delicately and raked his fingers through his disheveled hair, "Research and Development, huh? What are you doing all the way out here, collecting cacti milk to create an energy source?"

Axel couldn't help but snicker lightly at the image that brought, of Vexen running around the desert chopping down the green plants violently and making Marluxia carry them. Roxas also smiled with amusement, as if he was sharing the same thought, and just like that all tension seemed to drift away from the four youths.

Roxas lowered his arms and went through a few stretches before plopping down into the shade, just feet from two people who were considered sworn enemies of their government. Axel didn't bother warming down and settled into a lazy sprawl at Roxas's side, feeling the ache the day had caused for the first time, which made him groan and lean back on the heels of his hands near the tree, sheltering him from the whipping sands of the storm. The scent of bark and water was another blessing that washed over the oldest of the group of travelers like a wave of pure serenity. If he had the strength, he might have gotten back up and dove into the precious, clear water that teased him just feet away, but his muscles had already drained of energy and locked into position, demanding rest.

"Man, you guys look beat," piped up Sora, who was still grinning happily as he leaned against the now-sitting Riku's shoulder, "how long have you been out here?"

Axel groaned, figuring that 80% truth would be easier than lying, "About two days now. Our colleague didn't pick us up so now we're pretty much lost."

"So what were you doing?" Sora continued curiously, with no hint of suspicion at all, "If you're scientists, you're not soldiers, right?"

Riku tensed, and Sora must have felt it because he peered up into his buddy's face questioningly.

Roxas answered with a grim smirk, "In the Military, everyone's a soldier."

Sora's face fell slightly, "Well… in the Church, everybody works to help each other out, but there aren't any soldiers, really."

"Sora."

The harsh reprimand surprised Axel. With the way they were acting, he had been beginning to think that Riku was Sora's servant in some way, or guardian, with the way the silverette watched over him and apparently left the decisions to him. But just the snapped name was enough to make the young teenager wilt with a small frown.

"I'm just trying to make conversation, Riku."

"You need to keep your mouth shut, Sora, we're not with friends you know. We might be 'hanging' with these guys, but that does not mean they're not our enemy all of a sudden. Got it?"

The boy nodded sullenly. Axel's lips quirked in sympathy, and he abruptly smiled for the first time,

"Hey, how about this; let's just relax and talk and whatever, and when we part ways we'll just act like this never happened. Don't tell a soul and we won't. That sound good?"

Sora brightened again, "Sounds great! Is that okay, Riku? Can I talk now?"

"… Whatever, Sora."

Roxas and Axel shared a quick glance and smiled slightly. It was nice to just relax for the first time in way too long, even if it was with enemies. To hell with the Military for now, they were both pissed at the higher ups anyway.

Axel grunted as he pushed himself straighter, crossing his legs and letting his elbows hit his knees as his shoulders sagged, "So, are you two alone out here or what?"

"Yep!"

"Might you have any idea where the hell we are?"

"Nope!"

"… How'd you guys get out here?"

"Not telling!"

Axel sighed and gave up on talking to Sora. The kid was too bubbly for his sluggish mind right then. The redhead patted Roxas's head, making the kid glare at him in an affectionately detesting way, and chuckled softly.

"Well, Rox, I don't know about you but I'm beat. Let's get some sleep, okay?"

The blonde slanted a look towards the two disciples, which made Riku sigh.

"Go ahead and go to sleep. The Church doesn't take kindly to its followers stabbing people in the back. As long as you don't try anything with me, I won't try anything with you."

That being said, Riku stretched out on the sand on his back and pulled Sora down to his side, where the boy looped an arm over the elder's body unconsciously. Axel followed suit and ignored Roxas's exasperated sigh as the blonde stumbled to the base of the tree and curled up beside the trunk by himself. Axel's eyes drifted shut but he couldn't fall asleep, even as the breathing patterns around him changed to signify that everyone else had. When he opened his eyes again, there were stars scattered across the sky, and the moon was inching its way up to join them. The redhead rolled his eyes and struggled to his feet, walking with a slight limp to where Roxas was nestled against the tree.

He just looked at the kid for a moment; at the shadows scored under his lashes and the messy blonde hair that had less life than usual, at the too-pale skin and basically malnourished body. The boy was shivering and it was then that Axel realized the desert was probably cold at night. No sand was tearing at him in the fits of a storm, so he knew he could part with his coat and scarf. He peeled off his outer layers of clothing and draped them over his young friend, tucking the edges around the small body to capture and hold warmth. That being completed, the soldier unhooked his belt and let his rifle fall to the cool sand beside Roxas. Easing himself down once more, he turned onto his side and stared up at the sleeping blonde's face, and thought, not for the first time, that Roxas looked too much like an angel to have already killed twenty seven people in his short lifetime. Axel closed his eyes and drifted into dreams of fire, darkness, and light.

Parting the next day was a relief, because even though it was a pleasant feeling knowing that in the middle of a desert oasis people from conflicting sides of a war can come together in peace for a night, it was an even better feeling to be setting off with only his Roxas at his side once more.

Their goodbyes had been brief, with Axel and Riku looking at each other tensely but smiling all the same.

_"I guess this is it. It was a pleasure meeting you,"_ Riku had said.

Axel had smirked, _"Yeah, let's not meet again_."

"_Agreed_."

Nearly an hour later, Axel was still smiling lightly, glad that Roxas had woken up in a better mood. The blonde had been quiet all morning, thinking to himself, which meant that he was returning to his normal self and leaving his PMS episodes back in the desert where they belonged.

Something came over Axel though, and soon he was glancing around warily, especially behind them.

"What's up?" Roxas asked casually.

"How do we really know they were alone? They could come back with a group of psycho religious nutcases and hunt us down."

"They were alone."

The blonde's confidence caught him off guard, and Axel frowned, "How do you know that for sure, Roxas?"

"Angels can't lie."

Silence rang out as Axel froze in place abruptly. His mouth dropped open slightly as he stared at his companion in slightly horrified shock. In that single moment he could _almost_ feel the temperature against his skin drop and coldness wash over him.

"Angel…?"

"Angels can't lie, Axel. The Gods may have gifted them with certain powers, but in turn Angels have many restrictions… So you didn't notice. I didn't think you would."

Dark blue eyes were shaded as they glanced back at him, completely serious even though a tiny, vicious smile twisted Roxas's lips.

"Yes, Sora is an Angel and Riku is his Guardian."

Dismay washed over the redhead so strongly that his knees nearly gave out, but then anger and fear began to build, at and for his righteous bastard of a best friend.

"Damn it… Roxas… what have you done?"

**AN: Please review and tell me how I did, I would really appreciate some constructive criticism since this isn't exactly my area of expertise when it comes to writing. Thank you for reading! **


	2. Moral Obligation

CHAPTER TWO: Moral Obligation

Before the war, the heart of the Kingdom's population had been centralized in the enormous city of Hollow Bastion, in the center of the Eastern Kingdom and surrounded on respective sides by the main North, South, and East Military Headquarters. The city, although full of crime with not enough police, was where most people of importance were born and raised. Its sister city, Radiant Garden, was located across the desert to the West and was the epicenter of religion in the Kingdom. It also held a reputation for figures of significance, for the city seemed to be the place where every Angel in existence was born. Angels are humans who are born with a power given to them by the Gods, supposedly, and who are destined to use those powers to aid the world in any way they can. Be it nature or other civilians, Angels do whatever they can to help pretty much anybody or anything. They are simple creatures of light that try only to do what's right and needed.

†

Aerith Gainsborough was an Angel that seemed to have been around for centuries, unlike her brethren who mostly perished before their hair could even gain wisps of gray. Though she was a hundred and twenty four years old she remained locked in the body of a young woman, the reason why of which no surviving person knew a century after the war began. She had been there at the beginning, had been the first victim of the war, and was there throughout the years, watching her disciples grow old and die or be slaughtered by the Military. She watched, then, the arrival of a very young Rufus Shinra to the seat of the throne, and prayed to her Gods to let this boy be the one to see sense, as she had done with every Shinra before him.

Unlike his ancestors, though, she entreated a meeting with him and he unexpectedly agreed. Entering his office, she had been surprised at the small, sickly looking fourteen year old boy with ice blonde hair and sharp blue eyes that beckoned her inside. He allowed her Guardian in as well. Zack would not have allowed her entry otherwise. She and Rufus spoke for hours about the war, and appeared to be building towards a compromise, when the blonde boy suddenly smiled at the entry of a black-haired Turk. Aerith knew that Turks were assassins, and easily recognized by their trademark immaculate black suits, and thought at first that he'd come to kill her. Yet he only strode to stand at Rufus Shinra's side, bowing slightly in respect to the boy, before turning a dark, cold glare on the two disciples in front of him. He demanded they leave at once; there would be no treaty or compromise as long as members of the Church continued to rebel against Military rule.

On their way out, Aerith glimpsed another young blonde boy, but this one looked only twelve years old. He was staring intently with dark blue eyes, scowling slightly, and instead of staring _at_ her; it was almost as if he was staring _into_ her. Aerith hesitated but couldn't slow Zack's strides or pull from the steely grip he had on her waist, so she lost sight of the blonde boy, but not before she saw the glimmer of understanding and light that glowed within his cool eyes.

†

That was also the same moment Roxas saw his first Angel. Only days later, for the first time in history, Rufus Shinra, the new president of the Kingdom, ordered a seek and destroy mission on all Angels. Not long after that, into Roxas's first year in the Military, his superiors realized his impossible talent. He could identify Angels merely by sight. He explained to them how when he saw Aerith, he saw faint, glimmering light hovering around her in wisps.

That confession solidified his fate as a dog of the Military. He soon found himself at the Military's North Branch Headquarters, under General Xemnas who immediately put him in Axel Sinclair's care, a young recruit at the age of nineteen. Axel wasn't like anyone he'd ever met. Growing up, Roxas was taught to keep silent when spoken to unless a higher authority asked him to respond. His father was a very strict man who had no qualms with throwing the blonde from his expensive Military estate into the streets of the North Branch slums if one wrong word was uttered at an inappropriate time, so when he met Axel his world was turned around. The young man would talk non-stop, teasing the blonde for the little quirks that would be weaknesses in others' eyes. What was worse, the redhead talked about his own dark past as if that was an okay topic of conversation.

Within a week, Roxas knew more about Axel than he thought he knew about himself. The redhead grew up in the slums of Hollow Bastion with his older brother Reno (who was a Turk at East Headquarters) after being abandoned by their father and their mother committed suicide when Axel was six and Reno was fifteen. They survived like that until Tseng, the leader of the Turks, came upon them one day three years later. Reno had been slipping from shadow to shadow along the street, picking the pockets of unsuspecting people while Axel trailed a hundred feet behind, playing idly with a lighter. They hadn't known that Tseng was following them, and walked into the center of a violent conflict. A single black man was facing off against six other men who apparently had a friend of his hostage, a pretty redhead that, despite being beaten, bloodied, and half conscious, was smiling coldly at her captors. As soon as guns were pulled from hidden places beneath clothing, Reno jumped to the black man's side with a feral smirk and began to exchange blows and dodge bullets with only a steel pole he'd found years ago. Axel's brother later explanation for his actions was that he 'didn't like ugly guys holding a pretty girl hostage'. Axel himself had hesitated, but then made the flame of his grungy lighter streak out to envelope one of the bad men. It was then that Tseng stepped in and ended the conflict simply with a bullet to the rest of the kidnappers' heads. The man, along with the black man and redhead, took the eighteen and nine year old to the East Military Headquarters and immediately offered Reno a place alongside the black man, whose name was Rude, and the redhead, Elena. Axel's brother had accepted as soon as Tseng mentioned pay. As for Axel, Tseng took an equally immense interest in him. The next day, Axel met Saix, General Xemnas's right hand man, and was taken to the North. Years of training perfected his art, and he was finally allowed into the Military officially the day he turned nineteen, and seven months later he met Roxas.

Roxas wasn't sure what to make of the man's past, or why he even bothered to think about Axel's words on dark nights. He would picture a tiny boy with unruly spiked hair slumped in the darkness of an alleyway, covered in filth and on the brink of starving, and feel an ache in his heart that he couldn't define. The blonde's childhood in comparison to Axel's was luxurious. He never felt hungry, and had a father that talked to him about his assured future in the Military. He had lain in a comfortable bed every night and though his dreams weren't always pleasant, they were rarely bad. He'd only been outside the walls of his lavish home only a handful of times before he joined the Military, so he didn't know what it felt like to be cold.

He had been pampered, yes, but when he reached twelve years old and was instated under Xemnas's command he quickly learned how harsh the outside world could be. Years passed, and slowly he discovered how to talk to Axel without fear of retribution. The first time he cleverly teased Axel back for some stupid comment, the redhead had been laughing for minutes on end, and although Roxas had blushed with shame he was grinning as well. Then he turned sixteen, and conflict between the Military and the Church was at a suspicious cease-fire. No one had been slain in a petty battle in over five months, which was cause enough for Research and Development (the North Branch Military command) to snap to action. Suddenly, Roxas was going out with Axel nearly every day to investigate in the cities or cautiously cross the desert to sneak into enemy territory and gather Intel. Usually such things would be a job for the Turks, as Research and Development worked on weapons and ways to keep the Military and cities running, but the Turks had been rapidly depleting in number. Besides, as Xemnas pointed out to Shinra during a meeting, Roxas going out and conducting investigations would give him chances to spot and eliminate Angels.

On the way back from his and Axel's botched mission, as soon as they found Sora and Riku, he knew immediately what the bright-eyed boy was. The light that swirled and danced around the brunette was so much greater than Aerith's that Roxas had been momentarily blinded by it. The moment he saw Sora, though, he knew he would not kill him. He still didn't know the reason himself, but not even a gun pointed at his head would have made him raise his blade to the boy. Even more curious was his Guardian, the silver-haired boy who looked as if he'd climbed straight from Hell. The darkness twisting and twining around his agile body had caught Roxas off-guard in comparison to Sora's mirthful light; it was rare that such immense concentrations of light and dark could coincide with one another without wanting to tear each other apart, but when Riku and Sora laid side by side, the tendrils of forces locked around each other lovingly, spiraling and curling to become tangled knots of light and dark. When the two were separated, the wisps reached for one another like needy vines trying to connect and become whole once more.

Roxas had never seen or read about anything like it, and was eager to get back to Headquarters so that he could research the phenomenon.

Though, Axel might be a problem. He was silent the rest of the day of walking, and even when they reached the desert's border and Hollow Bastion's skyscrapers appeared in the distance, his mouth stayed clamped shut, expression solemn. Roxas decided not to worry about it; they'd already agreed to keep the two young disciples a secret, and the superior soldier never went back on his word, even when being silent about Roxas's actions could cost him his life.

The blonde, logically, knew why the redhead would be upset. The chance of a lifetime, an Angel and its Guardian right there in front of them to kill or capture, and Roxas had let it pass without a second thought. He was trying to think of an explanation that might put Axel's mind at ease, but he could conjure nothing. All he knew was that he was sure of his decision of letting them go.

The man finally spoke when they were entering Hollow Bastion in the dead of night.

"Roxas, we will not say a word about them to anybody, got it? And I mean NOBODY."

The blonde rolled his eyes as he glanced back to where Axel was trailing slightly behind him at his side, "I'm not an idiot, Axel. I know what could happen to me, what could happen to you."

"Then why did you do it?" Axel lowered his voice as they made their way further into the city, where people began to appear, milling about even with the moon high in the middle of the sky.

"I don't know."

A hand caught around his elbow and pulled him back to Axel's side, where he had stopped abruptly in the middle of the street.

"Roxas, this is serious. It's not something you can just forget or act flippant about. Our asses are on the line here."

"I know that!" Roxas snapped, trying to wrench from the bruising grip on his arm as he glared up into Axel's scathing acid green eyes.

His struggling only caused the hand to tighten and another to clench around his other arm. Axel jerked him to the side of a building, shaking him hard enough to make the city lights around them turn to hazy blurs in Roxas's eyes. Distantly, a tingle of fear ran its way up his spine. Axel had _never_ tried to hurt him before, but the rough hold was enough of a threat to make the blonde fall silent and snap his gaze to the ground in a gesture of subordination and obedience.

"Look at me; kid," the voice was firm but slightly apologetic, and Roxas obeyed thoughtlessly, his blue eyes vacant as he met Axel's desperate ones, "never do that again. Do you hear me, Roxas? If you _ever_ do something like that again I will not be able to protect you. Understand?"

Roxas nodded demurely.

"Talk to me, kid."

"I'm sorry Axel," he whispered, not seeing his friend in front of him anymore, but a superior officer that was furious with him. The man already had him in an unyielding grasp that he couldn't break from even if he used all his strength, all Axel had to do was use his mind to seize that power deep inside and Roxas would be nothing more than a streak of ash on the world's face.

Sharp eyes searched his intently for many long moments before the claw-like fingers loosened. Axel stepped back, giving the dazed teenager some space, and dug in his pockets to withdraw a cigarette. Holding a fingertip out, a brief flash of concentrated power passed through his eyes before a tiny flame flickered only an inch away from the skin of his finger. He clenched the cigarette between his teeth and held the small yellow flame to the tip and afterwards shaking his hand to eliminate the light. Taking a few deep drags, he clapped the blonde on the shoulder and started off into the city once more with Roxas following sedately behind.

An hour and three cigarettes later, Axel stopped in front of one of the many Military outposts spread throughout the East. Roxas halted behind him, wondering faintly why they stopped but concentrating more on the redhead's body language as the man looked over his shoulder at him, one hand on the door handle.

"I respect you Roxas. The Gods know I care more about you than anything else in this world right now; you've been the best friend I've had for four years. I know you don't care as much for me, but you need to know that I'm here for you through anything. I don't like being pissed off at you, but I also don't like having the Hell scared out of me because of the stupid, rebellious things you do. I'm sorry that I scared you, but you need to get it through your thick skull that you're not alone when you act recklessly. I'm not going to stand by and let you be pushed into a wall in front of a firing squad."

Roxas's heart jolted at the words, and thick guilt swarmed through his veins. Of course Axel would be pissed at him because he was putting himself in danger, not because he was disobeying direct orders from President Shinra. He sometimes forgot that although Axel was above him in rank, he was a friend first, and those obligations took priority over his Military commitments. Roxas really didn't know what was wrong with him. Maybe some side of him that believed in morals had reared its head and was vehemently against slaughtering Angels just because a corrupted government had ordered it; like some deep part of his heart held a moral obligation to the Angels that were his foremost targets. Well, that would be a problem.

He smiled weakly at Axel, who was still watching him carefully.

"Sorry, Axel. I guess I can be a real dumbass sometimes, huh?"

A tight smile was returned as the man dropped his current cigarette and crushed it under an unforgiving boot, "Yeah, more like most of the time, but that's fine with me as long as you know you're one. C'mon, let's chew Xigbar out and get back to the North."

Roxas nodded and murmured his agreement, following Axel inside the squat, ugly structure that housed Hollow Bastion's soldiers.

After a long, occasionally ear-piercingly loud conversation via telephone, Axel hung up the device with a cynical scowl. He returned to Roxas where the blonde was sitting, listening to the one-sided conversation with a due amount of amusement, behind one of the many empty desks in the bullpen of the Military outpost. Most of the soldiers stationed at city outposts like this were usually wandering through the streets, trying to play cop to ease the frustration of knowing that they're pretty much worthless in the eyes of the higher ups. Therefore Roxas was able to sit at the desk closest to the telephones stationed along one wall to catch Axel's every muttered threat and outraged shout.

The redhead collapsed heavily into the desk neighboring Roxas's and let out a drawn-out sigh of exasperation.

"What's going on?" The blonde asked, smothering a smile at his friend's groan.

"Well, Xigbar wasn't being a drunken asshole. North Headquarters was attacked while we've been gone. We couldn't get anyone on the radio because our communication lines were cut, which Saix is having a hell of a time trying to set back up," Axel stretched languidly, making his spine pop in several places before he straightened to meet Roxas's incredulous eyes, "about a hundred and fifty disciples. They managed to get in after somehow _flooding_ the place, but the weird thing is that they didn't kill anybody or take anyone hostage. Only knocked out quite a few soldiers on their way into the labs. Apparently they were looking for something, but didn't find it. Luxord and Larxene grabbed one of 'em, only to have the guy rant and rave about us kidnapping two of their people before 'killing himself'."

"You said 'flooded'?" the blonde's smile was long gone.

"Literally, with water."

Roxas's eyebrows rose skeptically, "What the hell…?"

In response, Axel's eyes flashed with an intelligence that he hid all too well, "No, Roxas, the question is, did we?"

"Did we what?"

"Did we kidnap two of their people. The disciple was pretty certain that we did, and the rest that got away searched every inch of our labs."

They sat, silently staring at each other as conclusions began to fall into place. Was finding Sora and Riku wandering the desert so close to Military soil just a coincidence, or were they in fact the ones that the disciples were looking for? But that would mean that the two had somehow escaped a Military Headquarters, which was supposed to be impossible, and Riku had seemed appeased by the fact that Roxas and Axel were part of the North Branch, not threatened. And that would also mean that Xemnas was concealing operations from his own soldiers; as far as Roxas knew, the North Branch did not torture disciples whether they were Angels or not. That was more the Turks' area of expertise. Unless someone within the North Branch was experimenting on them…

The specifics didn't matter, though. The fact was the superiors were hiding things from Roxas, and that didn't sit well with him.

Axel must have seen the snarl etching itself across his lips and the narrow gleam in his eyes, because he leaned toward him a little.

"Hey, we have no idea what any of this means right now. We might as well just hold back pointing fingers until we know what's really going on."

"You know there's going to be a huge internal investigation now, though. They got in somehow, and I don't care how much they flood the place, they had to have had help. And if we really had some of their people in our custody, they couldn't have got out alone."

Axel hummed, chewing at his thumb nail before making a circular swipe with his hand, "But that wouldn't make sense. If somebody in our ranks did help the captured disciplines out, why would they turn around and lead a rescue mission with an army of the Church, knowing that the two were already free?"

"So the imprisoned disciples either got free on their own, or they didn't exist and all of that was just an excuse for the Church to attack us."

"But then why would they go for North HQ? If I were them, with that size of an army, I'd go straight for South HQ and wipe out the center of War Coordination."

"Maybe they weren't prepared? Did Xigbar say anything about them being armed?"

"To the teeth," Axel snorted, crossing his arms, "they had swords, guns, grenades, and electric rods, even. They were prepared and ready for a hell of a fight. So, if they were just shitting about thinking we took two of their own, why infiltrate Research and Development and scour our labs, then leave empty handed? It doesn't make sense."

Roxas glanced around him quickly before speaking so softly it was barely a whisper, making Axel lean towards him to hear,

"So if we did have Sora and his Guardian in our custody, they would have gotten out on their own. But why wasn't Riku freaked when he knew we were from the North Branch?"

Axel shrugged before murmuring just as cautiously, "Maybe it wasn't Sora and Riku," at Roxas's disbelieving look he rolled his eyes, "okay, if they were the ones we had, they would have been experimented on. I'm sure Vexen would be leading the project, and you know how he loves to mess with people. Maybe whatever he did gave them memory loss?"

Roxas nodded contemplatively, and was about to say something more when the door to the office swung open and a few soldiers walked in laughing with one another. They paused when they saw the two younger, but higher class soldiers. It was obvious by the black colors Axel and Roxas wore, in contrast to the group of soldiers' scarlet red uniforms. Higher class soldiers didn't have to wear a uniform, but they had to wear black, as well as silver necklaces with a charm the shape of a pierced upside-down heart, the Military's emblem. Roxas almost wished he could hide the necklace because of the way the older soldiers were glaring at them. Their conversation had died and gone, and now they were facing rising tensions.

That is, until one of the red uniformed men stepped past his friends with a grin,

"Hey, Axel! I thought that was your sorry skinny ass! What the hell you doin' here man?"

And just like that, the rest of the Hollow Bastion soldiers dispersed around the room, returning to their respective desks and opening up paperwork or picking up their person telephone lines.

Roxas glanced at Axel to see a lazy smirk crawl across his previously wondering features.

"Well if it isn't Michello," he stood and strode a few feet to meet the inferior soldier and gave him a brief, rough hug, "we just came in from being lost in the goddamned desert. How are you, you old bastard? Would've thought you'd be a head of the South by now."

The brown-turning-gray haired man gave a cheery shrug, "Yeah, well I had enough of the front lines, thought I'd wind down for retirement here in the city instead of marching around doing nothing."

"Michello, you're only, what, forty seven? Why are you already thinking of retirement?"

Michello smoothed down his uniform jacket, glancing past Axel at Roxas before returning his stone-grey eyes to the redhead standing before him, seeming sheepish as he smiled, "Fifty two, actually. Come on, Lea, I'm way older than most of the soldiers these days. All the men I started out with are dead now. The Church is sure preaching to the choir with all their no-killing bullshit. Bunch of lousy hypocrites is what they are. Point is, kid, I've seen way too much blood already. Don't know how much more I can take, so I'm dropping out early. Of course, you know how General Sephiroth is; he's only allowing it because of a 'debilitating injury' I got a year ago. I'm pretty much useless to the South Branch now and they know it."

"An injury?" That was all that apparently snagged the redhead's attention. Axel's expression twisted in concern as he looked over his old friend once more, and Roxas observed both of their reactions with interest.

"Yeah," Michello patted his chest, "got a bullet lodged in here about three inches from my heart. Close call, and they can't take it out without running a risk of screwing something up and finishing what a crazy disciple started. You've heard about him I'm sure; Anthony Weiss. Psychotic son of a bitch tried to take on fifty soldiers, and managed to take out seven before we took him down."

"I heard of him. Had no idea you were one of the guys hit." Axel's tone was almost accusatory.

"Sorry about that, I was in hospice for almost three months, and figured the slum rat I met five years ago wouldn't care much about a rusty dog like me."

"Michello, don't be ridiculous. You're my friend, you should have called me. How's Ellie and the baby?"

Michello snorted, "Ellie's just fine. She's a little pissed at me because I won't let her gain any weight back after having Charlie. She looks better that way; something about the curves and belly. I dunno. Anyway, Charlie isn't a baby anymore; only four years old and is already smarter than me. I swear, every day these babies are getting smarter and smarter. I see you've got your own now, though."

Roxas's face heated at the comparison, but he stood up respectfully as Axel lead him over anyway. The man held out a hand, a jovial smile on his mundane yet somehow handsome face. Roxas shook the hand politely and bowed his head slightly when Axel spoke.

"Michello, this is Roxas Axors. He joined the Military when he was twelve and we've been partners for the past four years since. Roxas, this is Michello Bardwell, I met him six years ago while I was training. He was my instructor in combat tactics when I was seventeen."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Roxas murmured sincerely, letting a tiny smile slip onto his lips.

"You too, kid. Can't believe I'm really this old. Who knew the Military would take in a pre-teen. You must be pretty special, huh?"

The blonde teenager shrugged slightly, crossing his arms. He tried to avoid giving out personal information or small conversation. Just another thing his father drilled into him ever since he was a small child; speak only when necessary, otherwise keep your mouth shut.

_"Idle talk leads to giving out too many of your weaknesses, Roxas. Everyone has faults, and the longer you talk to someone the more about yourself you give away. Understand, son?"_

_ "Yes father."_

Roxas was shaken from the past when Axel's hands guided him back into his seat carefully, speaking quietly to Michello as he did so, but their words were muffled ghosts in his ears. He thought he caught the words 'dissociative states' slip out of Axel's lips, and the tiny part of him that was conscious wanted to snap at Axel to keep his mouth shut, but he was too far gone for that.

Roxas hated moments like these that he had; when his mind seemed to rip itself from his body and hover somewhere far away, so far that he couldn't hope to find himself again. But he always did. He repeated these self-assurances to himself over and over again.

And, like every time before, wakefulness came like the snap of the fingers, and he glanced around in confusion. It always took a few moments for him to remember what was going on around him. Axel and a man… Michello… were sitting at the other desk, Axel on the desk's edge and Michello in the chair. Two pairs of eyes were watching him, and it took him almost a full minute to realize that he had been staring at them numbly. He shook his head and gave a dithering smile.

"Sorry," he apologized, clearing his throat, "how long was I out?"

Axel glanced up at the clock behind him and his lips quirked worriedly, "Hours; it's dawn. Xigbar's been here, along with Vexen, for about three hours. We were afraid to move you."

Michello leaned towards him, waving a hand in front of the blonde's face. Roxas followed the gesture with mild irritation.

The senior soldier spoke delicately, "Doctor Even looked you over already; this is just to reassure me."

That being said, he pressed a palm to Roxas's forehead, frowning lightly.

"You feel a little warm. It would be best if you two got back to North HQ and relaxed for a while."

"Will do," Axel stretched with feline grace before pushing away from the desk and stepping beside Roxas's chair. The blonde followed his silent command and stood. For some reason, Axel always thought that he would collapse after he woke up, but he walked just fine. They said their goodbyes to Michello and made their way to the glass doors that led back into the front office.

Roxas's mouth was forming around a question when a flash of light spiked through his head so brightly and forcefully that his knees buckled under him. Dimly, he felt arms catch him before his head hit the ground, and heard Axel's voice,

"Roxas!"

Then the light vanished as swiftly as it came, and darkness descended.

**AN: Next chapter- more Sora and Riku, plus some other young men and women we all know and love. ;)**


	3. The Gods' Will

CHAPTER THREE: The Gods' Will

Crystalline water, glowing light, and emerald green power crawled from the ground and rose in a full arc over a thousand feet into sky, as fast as lightning and sharp against the pale blue sky. The three lines steadily stretched far overhead, reaching over the entire city of Radiant Garden to meet the ground on the other side. Where the lines started from the grass, just meters outside of the gates to the city, three people knelt with their palms pressed into the dirt, grass spiking from between tense fingers. A pair of aquamarine eyes studied the overwrought bodies that were curled so tightly towards the ground that their foreheads touched the backs of their hands. The purr of power rising in the air was tangible, brushing almost lovingly against Riku's face. It ceased for a breath, only to explode into a whirlwind, making his hair blow out behind him for a moment. If he wasn't so used to the routine he would have stumbled from the shock wave, but he merely leaned towards the burst of wind slightly, letting his eyes drift shut as he soaked in the scents and feelings.

The smell of clean, fresh water melded with traces of what Riku could only be able to describe as peace and purity. It caused the young man's head to reel and his body soaked in every particle that hit him, making his breath freeze in his lungs and his muscles and bones shiver. In one precious moment Riku felt as if he was weightless, as if he would be able to burst into a million fragments and drift away with the breeze, but the moment ended all too soon and he remembered that he had a task to carry out.

Before he even opened his eyes, he knew that the arc had spread into a dome that enveloped the city. A protective shield made of three layers; the green webbing first, then water, then the thickest layer, light, facing up towards the early-morning sun. He exchanged glances with the steel-haired young man to his left and violet-eyed Knight to his right and gave just a hint of a nod. As one, they moved forward towards the three Angels cautiously. Riku's eyes were locked on Sora, so he barely noticed when the Knight, Zack Fair, lifted an unconscious Aerith from the ground as Zexion did his best to hoist up his own Angel, Demyx. Like every time before, Sora had collapsed onto his right side, his left palm still planted firmly to the earth. Sky blue eyes stared vacantly into the distance, and his body had become absolutely still.

Riku knelt beside the boy and reached out calmly, prying the fingertips from the dirt one by one before checking Sora's pulse and breathing. His heart was too fast and fluttery and his breathing was shallow, which made the Guardian frown slightly. Sora always took this worse than Aerith and Demyx, and he still didn't understand why. Every time, he feared he would be dragging a cold hand from the ground and checking a dead heartbeat and nonexistent breathing pattern. He could only shove those fears aside now, though, and focus on what really mattered; getting Sora to Kairi. He hefted the catatonic brunette into his arms and smiled at Zexion, who had managed to arrange Demyx in a clumsy bridal-carry, a mockery of how Zack and Riku held their Angels but impressive nonetheless. Apparently Zack noticed as well, and grinned cheerfully as he cradled Aerith to his chest and began walking towards the gate to the city, speaking to the ever-serious teenager over his shoulder,

"Have you been lifting weights instead of books lately, Zex? This is the first time you've been able to carry that gangly kid by yourself."

The intellectual Guardian huffed an exasperated sigh and readjusted his grip on the tall blonde's shoulders as he fell into step beside Zack and Riku,

"It is an embarrassment to have to wait for one of you to help me with relocating Demyx, and it would be disrespectful to _drag_ him to the Cathedral, so I made the only logical choice and made myself stronger."

The ravenette scoffed in a teasingly hurt way, "What, you couldn't come train with me?"

"Zackary, I only need to be strong enough to carry Demyx, I don't need to be drilled on how to keep my appearance pleasant for 'the ladies', or how to kill someone in one blow."

"Hey, those are both extremely important survival skills that you're going to have to learn one day, Bookie."

"Zackary, I've asked you a number of times to call me by my name."

"And I've asked you a thousand times to call me 'Zack'! Geez, get a personality."

Riku listened to their banter mindlessly, his eyes locked onto Sora's as he walked. He only snapped back into the conversation when Zack's usual cheery demeanor changed to serious and he asked a question obviously meant for Riku.

"How's he doing?"

The silverette shook his head slightly and said quietly, "Worse than before, again. He's barely breathing."

Zack sighed, violet eyes shining with concern as he looked over at Sora, cradled possessively in Riku's arms,

"How many more of these do you think can he take?"

"I don't know. All I know is he keeps getting worse, but it's only when he's replacing the power dome. He can light up the desert night like a beacon and only get a little dizzy afterwards. But this… I know it wipes Aerith and Zexion out, but Sora becomes _catatonic_, not unconscious."

A few minutes passed in silence before Zexion, the youngest of the three at the age of seventeen, spoke up with rarely revealed emotion,

"I'm sorry, Riku. I've been researching why Sora is an anomaly, but so far I have failed to find a single indicative mention of anything that might help explain Sora's state after Reconstruction. I still have about seventy books to look through before I will label the circumstances unexplainable, though."

Riku, despite his concern for his Angel, had to smile. Zexion was so mature for his age, and so passionate for his soft-spoken nature. It seemed all the teenager cared about was the Angels, and how he could be of assistance to them. He especially had a soft spot for Demyx, of course that was because the two had been destined to be Angel and Guardian to each other, just like Zack and Aerith were. Unlike Riku…

He shook himself and turned his head slightly to look at the pale, smoky-eyed Guardian, "There's no need to apologize, Zexion. You're trying your best, and I'm grateful for that. I have full faith in you; I'm sure that if you can't find the reason, no one can."

Though his lips were tight with self-reproach, Zexion nodded reluctantly. That eternal guilt was the young Guardian's biggest flaw. Riku knew Zexion would never be able to move forward or care for Demyx wholly if he kept hanging on to his precious self-loathing. It had been one simple mistake, but Zexion would be stuck on it for the rest of his life.

Riku looked down at Sora once again, wondering how he would feel if he ever caused great harm to the Angel. Then he realized that he was a complete hypocrite for ragging on Zexion, because he knew he'd never forgive himself.

They reached the Cathedral of Hearts within minutes, since it was located just inside the gates on the edge of Radiant Garden. It rose like a great ancient God, all pale gray marble and stained glass with several shades ranging from pale pink to dark-almost black- red. The structure was built to accommodate the many rooms it contained and an indoor courtyard in the center, where Aerith planted and took care of hundreds of flowers. If the Cathedral was anyone's, it would be Aerith's, but the main three Angels of the Church shared it like it was their own. If one wanted to be specific, the Cathedral of Hearts was Aerith's to look after, the Cathedral of Keys was Sora's, and the Cathedral of Nature was Demyx's. But the Cathedral of Keys was about three miles beyond the city's gates to the southwest, and the Cathedral of Nature had been destroyed long ago by the Military when the war first began.

Now, most of the Church tried to stay inside Radiant Garden's gates, though there were a few small towns still spread across the West, generally at the edge of the mountains forty miles away. The Angels tried to go out to each one of them at least once a week to help out in any way they can; bringing supplies, healing the ill, that sort of thing.

This week wasn't looking good, though. Riku and Sora had stumbled out of the desert and into the ruins of the Cathedral of Nature, only to find Zexion and Demyx attempting once again to take care of the place a bit. Everyone knew it was hopeless, except for Demyx who came out here, dangerously close to the desert and the Military in the East beyond it, at least twice a month. Riku had laughed when the somber Guardian and his emotional blonde counterpart claimed that Riku and Sora had been abducted by the Military. The silverette and his Angel had gone out to Destiny Islands in the north a week before, to collect supplies, and got a little lost in the desert on the way back, was all. Zexion and Demyx had acted wary but certain, which only served to make Riku scoff. He would know if he'd been captured by the Military, he told them, but Sora's silence had made him nervous and unsure of himself.

The teenage Angel had been acting strange ever since they'd met the two soldiers in the desert. He'd been quieter, still bubbly and bright, but more hesitant to speak. Riku had also caught the brunette staring into nothingness more than once in the hours since they got back to Radiant Garden.

The present vacantly fixed gaze on his face was similar, only making Riku more concerned.

When the three Guardians entered the cathedral with respective Angels in their arms, they were immediately met by the healers that stood at the ready for after Reconstruction. Kairi led Riku through the pews, into one room to the right of the altar. Namine took Zexion and Demyx to the room opposite, and Tifa was waiting for Zack in the rarely-open doorway behind the altar.

Riku glanced around their room subconsciously, an automatic instinct to seek out any danger that might be hidden, but it was empty of any other people besides the three of them. An old but sturdy dark-wood dresser lined the whole left wall; about fifteen feet long, and on the right wall was a shelf of the same wood that held medical supplies. Boot heels clicked noisily on the pale marble floor as Riku strode forward to the white-outfitted bed in the center of the room and carefully laid down the Angel on the downy bedspread.

"How is he?" whispered Kairi, a precise echo of the manner Zack's worried words were spoken in.

"He's doing worse than last time. His breathing is shallow and his heartbeat is erratic. Other than that, I think he's okay."

Kairi stepped next to him, her small hand reaching out to wrap around his larger, scarred one comfortingly. The burgundy hair that fell down past her shoulders had already been strung up in a ponytail and she'd removed her favorite pink dress, leaving her in a white tank-top and a tiny pair of red shorts.

Riku smiled at the concentration locked on her pretty features as she took off her star necklace and bracelets, blue-violet eyes on Sora the entire time. She was no doubt one of the Church's best healers, just a step under Aerith, and had been Sora's personal healer from the moment she was able to control her powers. She and the Angel had grown up together, had been best friends since they were babies, so her protective instincts towards the boy were almost as strong as Riku's.

Almost, but no one could surpass a Guardian's emotions towards their Angel.

Riku's eyes returned to Sora as he moved to the other side of the bed, picking up a limp hand and smoothing his fingers over the warm flesh, reassuring himself that a light like Sora's wouldn't go out so easily. He closed his eyes when Kairi began to recheck the vitals before pressing her palms to the brunette's chest. Whispered prayers left her lips, and Riku joined along in his mind, holding Sora's hand firmly and bracing his other arm against the bed.

The first scream came from across the chapel, and Riku recognized the agonized voice as Demyx's. He bowed his head slightly, squeezing his eyes tighter closed as Aerith's pained shouts followed. When Sora's voice pierced the air the loudest, the strongest, and the most full of hurt, every inch of Riku's body prickled and his heart ached as if it had been driven through with a hot-iron knife.

He was powerless; could only hold onto Sora and try to give him a measure of comfort as his soul was pulled back together by Kairi's unforgiving magik.

He realized something was wrong when Sora's screams continued when Aerith's and Demyx's had fallen silent. He only noticed Kairi was shouting at him when Sora's body began to thrash. His eyes snapped up to meet frantic ones across the bed.

"Hold him down! He's rejecting the magik!"

Panic rose like a livid beast, but Riku managed to comply with the healer's demand through the stunned fog, grasping the brunette's shoulders and pressing him back into the bed. But that wouldn't be enough; the boy was fighting against him, writhing against his touch. Riku cursed loudly when the last vestiges of shock drained away and he leapt onto the bed, straddling the struggling body and holding it down with his own as Kairi moved forward once more, ducking under Riku's left arm to press her hands once more against Sora's chest. A violent tremor ran through the tortured body, but Riku ignored it as he focused on keeping him still.

He heard Namine and Tifa enter the room, but disregarded them, too. Their hands joined Kairi's and many long minutes passed before Sora's body went still. Riku remained frozen in place, staring down with wide eyes at Sora's suddenly conscious ones. They were looking at him with so many different emotions that Riku couldn't decide if the boy was scared, relieved, or pissed.

"Riku."

He broke the eye contact to glance at Tifa, who was standing at his side, her hand on his shoulder. The woman was smiling gently, but the intense worry in her eyes belied her words.

"He's fine, now. You can get off of him."

Riku stared at her uncomprehendingly, before Sora's weak, shaking voice smiled,

"I'm okay, Riku. Starving, actually. Can I have a paopu fruit now?"

Aquamarine met light cobalt in a battle of wills, and Riku reluctantly climbed off of the small Angel, gingerly taking Sora's tan hand in his own to keep that contact. After what he just witnessed, Riku didn't think he'd be able to ever let go again. He was so _useless_, so much so that it sickened him. Guardians were supposed to protect their Angels, to hold them close and guard those precious lives with their own, but Riku couldn't do a damn thing when it was Sora's soul that was hurting.

Sora's warm hand gripped his own in assurance, making him breathe a little easier now. He could only give his Angel a shadow of a smile and help him to his feet. Reconstruction was an exhaustive, dangerous job, but the power dome gave the people of Radiant Garden a sense of security and peace. The dome would give everyone power and a shield against the Military as long as one Angel stood within its confines. If all three Angels were beyond its walls at once the dome would unravel and the city would be left open, so Aerith tried to stay in Radiant Garden as much as possible, but there were just times when all three had to leave.

This last time, Sora and Riku had been in the desert, and Demyx and Zexion had gone after them. Aerith was needed at one of the mountain towns to heal a man who had been injured when repairing their power reactor, so the dome had dispersed, leaving Radiant Garden vulnerable for days. The problem was, to create the dome again, all three Angels were needed.

As Sora left with Aerith and Demyx for the dining hall at the back of the Cathedral, Riku let himself crumple onto one of the benches facing the altar in the front room. He looked past the altar at the simple tapestry hung there. In all the Cathedrals, there weren't statues of the Gods like regular churches, but modest tapestries depicting a variety of images. On the red velvet of this one were intertwining rays of light and the classic symbol of a white heart in the center. Curling inside of the ivory heart were ruby lines spreading like veins across its image, marring its pure image.

Riku was so fixated on the picture that he startled when another teenager sat down beside him. The smiling blonde facing him had gentle but passionate eyes that spoke without him having to say a word.

"He's okay, Tidus. I don't know what happened in there, but it's over now."

"I was more worried about you," was the light-hearted response, "I know how you get about these things. So, spill it Ri."

The silverette sighed, leaning forward to bow his head; the elbows braced on his knees the only thing keeping his aching body upright.

"I'll be fine. Just really… tired. Haven't gone to sleep since we got out of the desert. Maybe that's why Sora reacted that way."

A hand clapped his shoulder jovially, "There you go. Stay positive! Get some shut-eye and we'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Riku nodded mechanically and waited for Tidus to leave before he got to his feet and staggered towards the back of the Cathedral. Adjacent to the dining hall was the bedrooms, and he let himself into the one that everyone had labeled 'his'. It was still as blank as the day he'd arrived, with only the dressers occupied by his clothing, and the bed still unmade from the last time he'd slept in it a week ago. He climbed into it, only pausing long enough to kick off his boots and pull his jacket off. Before a full minute passed he was gone with the bliss of much-needed sleep.

What seemed like only moments later, though, he was opening his eyes once more, squinting against the intense sunlight streaming through the curtains and alighting on everything it touched, casting reflective glares on a glass sitting on the bedside table, sending light right on the silverette's eyes. It was filled with a clear liquid, presumably water, and Riku's sluggish mind struggled to catch up with him when he realized he had not set that there. He reached out anyway to push the glass out of the sunlight's contact and rolled onto his side to burrow back into the sheets and fall away from the world once more. But as soon as he turned over he faced a mess of brunette spikes. Looking down to the face the wild hair belonged to, he smiled slightly. Sora was fast asleep despite the warm glow of the sun caressing his features, eyes closed-like they should be- and breathing steady and still. Riku raised his hand to swipe his finger over the warm cheekbone, smile widening when the Angel mumbled at the contact and burrowed further into the bed until his forehead was pressed against Riku's chest, petite hands that were previously curled under his chin twisting weakly into the fabric of Riku's shirt.

The Guardian looped an arm around the boy and pulled him closer into a comfortable embrace, dragging the comforter around their shoulders, but as he observed the sleeping boy, he knew he wouldn't be able to drift off again. He amused himself by thinking of the first time he and Sora slept together. It was almost seven years ago, when Sora was only a tiny, delicate nine year old with a passion for exploration-which had never really faded, and Riku was an intense, already battle-worn, fifteen year old whose only goal then was to lay his life down for a Guardian-less Angel. Never would he have imagined the impossibly deep friendship he would form with whichever Angel chose him; he only cared about crushing the Military once and for all so that the Kingdom could be restored to how it was in old diaries and history records. Instead, he was faced with a bright eyed and worriless child, and immediately knew things wouldn't work out quite the way he expected.

_He stared at the little boy before him, half his size but emanating such happiness and trust in the face of a stranger that Riku was looking up to Aerith uncertainly, disbelief flickering in young but shadow-laden aquamarine eyes. The kind woman merely smiled encouragingly and gave the teenager a tiny nudge towards the energized boy. _

_He cleared his throat and attempted to shrug away the tension that seemed to be only affecting him as he licked his lips and opened his mouth,_

_"Sora… I'm Riku. I've requested the honor of becoming your Guardian," the next words that he had prepared slipped out awkwardly, and even he wanted to roll his eyes at them as he spoke, "I know I'm young, but I've fought soldiers before and am prepared to do it again," his final statement came out unplanned and passionate, "I'm ready to die for the Church, for you, if it means that we can end corruption in our Kingdom."_

_Both Aerith and Sora looked taken aback by his words, and the seemingly eternal smile faded from the boy's face. A cold draft seemed to sneak through the cracks of the great Cathedral's ancient doors to swirl around Riku, clenching around his heart in breathless dread and hope. If he did not become a Guardian, he would be just another disciple, and to achieve what he needed to he had to be on the backdrop when the war began to turn. This boy had control of his future, whether he would be able to succeed or whether he would fail miserably before he could even try. _

_Those pale azure eyes regarded him with a sharp snap of intelligence that he hadn't expected, glancing him up and down. After a few long moments Sora shook his head a little, a frown indenting his brow as if he was puzzled about something. The younger Angel sent a quick look up at Aerith before closing his eyes and abruptly falling to his knees, fingers tangling together and pressing against his chest as his shoulders bowed over his small body loosely, letting his nose face the cool marble floor. _

_Riku took a single step forward when an icy thrill of concern swept through his blood, but an adult hand on his shoulder held him back, making his attention rise once more to warm green eyes, as ancient as the Cathedral they were standing in._

_Aerith bent over to whisper in his ear, so as not to distract the little brunette boy kneeling on the hard, unforgiving chapel floor._

_"He's praying, Riku. He's asking the Gods if you're sincere and trustworthy."_

_Swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat was harder than he thought it would be, and he began to fight to keep his breathing even, locking his eyes straight ahead. He didn't know what the Gods would tell Sora, but none of it could be good. Riku hadn't exactly lived a loving, faithful life so far, and he'd never imagined that Angels would be able to speak directly to the Gods, so now all of his previous confidence had all but disappeared entirely._

_The moment Sora opened his eyes, Riku was turning to run._

_"Riku, it's the Gods' will that you be my Guardian. They say you have a good heart, despite some serious faults; they're entrusting my life to you, for however long it may be."_

_As the new Guardian stood in stunned silence, still pivoted on heel to flee, the bright smile returned to the child Angel's lips,_

_"Only one thing, though. I'm afraid of the dark, so you're going to have to suck up your manly teenage attitude and sleep in the same bed with me, okay?"_

_Riku could only nod mutely, still too dazed by gaining unwarranted acceptance from the Gods to fully comprehend what Sora was suggesting. _

_Hours later, climbing into a tiny bed beside the even tinier Angel, he felt a tense awkwardness thrumming along his every nerve. What nine year old kid was still afraid of the dark? But he squashed his thoughts relentlessly and pulled the sheets over the already half-asleep Angel's frail shoulders. When the child was appropriately tucked in, he lay on top of the covers and stared up at the ceiling, crossing his arms and letting his lips fall into an indignant scowl as soon as Sora's breathing evened out. No thoughts travelled through his head, he only mourned his broken pride as he drifted after Sora into sleep._

_When he drowsily opened his eyes the next morning, he froze when he realized a few things at once; he had somehow made it under the sheets during the night, there was now a flimsy pair of arms clinging around him adamantly and a nose nuzzling into his neck, and he found himself smiling softly at the childish embrace. He let his hand trail up to brush a few spikes out of the face still containing a fair amount of puppy fat before, almost as if he was moving against his own will, wrapping his arms around the tiny frame and collecting the boy closer to him._

_His mind sealed the compact of betrayal when the clear, irrefutable thought rang through his mind, overpowering every mark of pride and humility Riku possessed,_

_'He's - _my_ - Angel now.'_

Riku was shaken from his reverie back into the present when Sora shifted in his arms, the now lithe body suddenly stretching and a content noise almost like a purr rumbling from the brunette's chest. A smirk crawled its way across the silverette's features, and he chuckled softly.

"Good afternoon. Sleep well?"

"Mhm."

Riku's smile stretched into a grin at the lazy reply, and it was obvious that the stress from that morning could now be forgotten in the face of total contentedness drifting through the air. Sora suddenly sighed and pushed Riku's arms away so that he could flip onto his stomach. Riku mimicked the motion, echoing the way Sora folded his arms as he laid his right cheek on his own arms, so that he could watch the fleeting emotions light across the Angel's features. He didn't need to ask. The teenager spoke without need for support, his voice muffled by a pillow. Riku rolled his eyes and snatched the pillow away, giving the Angel a firm look.

Sora sighed again and met Riku's eyes this time,

"Do you think Roxas is all right?"

The Guardian's brow rose at the mention of one soldier and not the other, especially since a word had not been spoken of either of them since they'd left the desert, but he was now past the point of trying to understand Sora sometimes, "I don't know. I'd suppose so. Why?"

The boy's nose crinkled in thought, and he ducked his head to press his chin onto his arms as he stared at the headboard of the bed musingly, "I dunno. It was just a weird feeling, I guess. Never mind, Riku."

**AN: Next chapter- CLOUD AND RENO! *squeals to self* Sorry, they're probably my favorite characters ever. Square Enix is so full of genius just for those two femininely masculine bundles of attitude. Review, please! I'll send you an invisible pie in an invisible box! ;p**


	4. The Traitors

**AN: Thank you guys for the reviews, I'm doing a happy dance right now at the compliments! And yes, I did know that Cissnei was the redhead and Elena is blonde. It comes up later, I promise. For now, enjoy chapter four and please review! I post things on here to hear others' opinions, I could just as easily just keep it to myself but I want to see how I'm doing and get further with my writing skill. Sorry for the rant and thank you again you guys who did review.  
Aaaaaaaand action!**

CHAPTER FOUR: The Traitors

Deep in the confines of the Military's South Branch Headquarters, a soft curse rang out in the main hangar, echoing throughout the five-acre space to dodge around the many monstrous metal vehicles, to fade after a double run. A scowl lit a pale, almost femininely handsome face that was otherwise set in fierce determination and concentration as the man fumbled blindly for the wrench he'd dropped. Hot oil stung his hands and spotted his face, but he wouldn't be able to check the full damage until he was out from under this gods-damned ratter truck. He was more used to-and comfortable with- working on seven miller cycles and even more so with the older, downgraded models, so having to lie under the huge supply truck was unnerving. He was aware that any moment the piece of shit that _General_ Sephiroth had deemed 'unstable at best' could collapse on him at any moment, and he was also aware that the bastard knew exactly how Cloud would feel about this task, which was why it fell upon the blonde's hands.

It was an impossible assignment; the truck had so many punctured energy conductors and shredded cylinders that it was dangerous to even be near the hulking, battered thing. That wasn't even counting the major damages like the completely wrecked valves throughout the steel body or the jumbled and ruined mass of wiring that used to be the central networking system. That latter one would be the thing that gave him the most problems. To fix that, he was going to have to climb directly into the engine, so first he needed to mend or replace those energy conductors and cylinders or he'd end up like a deep-fried chocobo.

He hissed victoriously as the last screw he was working on fell with a sharp, resounding _clink_ beside his head, and violently wrenched the panel off of the steel underside of the ratter. His last ounce of patience had bled away three hours ago when he had realized it was midnight, which made him then comprehend-like a domino effect, in which his composure was the dominos falling over one by one with each new acknowledgement- that he'd been working for a straight eighteen hours and had barely made a dent in the tasks that needed to be completed for this vehicle to function again.

Even his frazzled composure had to take a backseat in this next step though, so he took a deep breath and forced his trembling muscles and aching bones to relax before reaching into the glowing blue of the still active internal energy system. Disconnecting the fist-sized power conductor made sweat bead along his brow, even though he'd done this six times already in the past twenty one hours, because one wrong twitch of a finger could mean interrupting the flow of energy and causing the system to override. That would mean a relatively small explosion, but it would be enough to take him and every vehicle in the hangar out. The safest course was to cut the flow each circuit at a time, until there was one left to keep the path of energy open, and begin connecting the new power conductor while a strand of the old one was still in place. Still, it was a risky procedure that required his utmost attention, which was probably why he didn't hear the echoing of clacking footsteps before they stopped beside the ratter.

It was another few minutes, maybe a half an hour at most, before the new energy core was in place. The blonde cradled the old flickering and sputtering one to his chest in exhausted relief, letting his aching arms succumb to gravity as his head dropped onto the cement. Letting out a sigh after another minute or two, he blinked tiredly, wanting nothing more than to just close his eyes and have a short rest. But it was an impossible assignment, and he'd be damned if it took him more than a few days to complete. He refused to walk into Sephiroth's office only to see that mocking jeer of a smirk on the man's lips. No, Cloud would make him stare in disbelief; just one moment of shock on that smug, conceited face would fulfill the younger soldier's Military existence.

First he had to accomplish it, though, and he wasn't getting any closer to that by staring into space. He shook the energy conductor lightly, testing whatever power remained in it, but it was gone. Just a lifeless dud of the shining, beacon-bright resource it used to be.

Cloud sighed once more before tossing it to the side, out from underneath the shadow of the looming ratter, and scooted himself further back; on to the next panel. He jumped, banging his head on the steel underbelly, when a loud crunch and the startling sound of crystal shattering sounded not five feet from where he lay under the truck. Snapping his head to the side while ignoring the throbbing pain of protest in his head, his eyes lighted on a very familiar pair of scuffed black shoes that were heeling their way through the remnants of the conductor he'd just abandoned.

"Reno, what the hell are you trying to do; give me a heart attack?"

"Ooh, somebody's grumpy," came the cheery, drawling voice, "it's too early to be like that, Cloud. If you're in such a bad mood you shouldn't have gotten out of bed so early."

"I haven't been to sleep yet, Sinclair."

"You won't find sympathy from me, I've been driving for Gods know how long. Get out here ya grease ball, I've got coffee."

Cloud rolled his eyes and edged out from underneath the ratter for the first time in hours. Immediately, he winced at the harsh light raining down from above and noticed that, sometime while replacing power sources, he'd gained a migraine. A hand waved in front of his face, offering its owner's help, and he complied without consideration, letting Reno pull him to his feet. He would be the first to admit that his relationship with the lazy Turk was an odd one, but it was a sort of friendship that he cherished with all his heart.

Reno's fiery hair was swept into a small ponytail, the shorter strands being held back by a pair of goggles pushed into his hair (which failed with a few that fell around his eyes, but Cloud wasn't about care enough to point it out), and he wore the trademark Turk suit like the lazy ass he was; his jacket hung open loosely and the crumpled white dress shirt underneath was undone to a few inches past his collar bones. What was really unique about Reno, though, were the small tattoos that were engraved onto his cheek bones, just two red swipes amid the pallor of his skin, and the shimmering gray eyes that held both intense shadows and a bright light-heartedness that was rare these days. The man was a bit of an impossibility, himself; having that light in his eyes still, after being a Turk for years.

He was easy to amuse at least, and Cloud followed those questioning eyes down to his own disheveled state. He was covered in dust and metal shavings that would take weeks to get out of his hair, and sleek oil covered nearly every inch of him. He shrugged half-heartedly at the speculation and muttered,

"Sephiroth's trying to break me down again. He's sadly mistaken if he thinks something like this is going to bring me to my knees."

Sinclair merely raised an eyebrow, seeming to take in to shadow scars under the blonde's eyes, as well as the slight wince of a headache and the downward slope of shoulders, but he didn't comment, only held out a full coffee pot. Cloud chuckled and shook his head, why wouldn't the redhead bring an entire pot? It was so _Reno_ that the soldier didn't even know why he was surprised.

But the humor faded quickly in the face of business, and Reno began to pace while Cloud leaned against the busted vehicle that was the current center of his frustrations and sipped coffee, letting the Turk gather his thoughts.

"So… I heard that you're likely to be Sephiroth's choice as a successor."

A slim golden brow rose as the faintest of smirks lifted Cloud's bow-shaped lips.

"Really. That's interesting; I heard that you're like Tseng's right-hand man these days, despite tramping all over his nerves like a behemoth."

"Yeah, but we've got a problem."

Cloud's smile was instantly smothered, like fingertips closing over the puny flame of a candle, and the sharpness of his eyes was inquiry enough for the unusually grim-faced Turk to shuffle his feet and continue,

"Let me start from the beginning for a second, here. I'm on my way to conduct an investigation into the break-in at the North Branch HQ, but thought I'd pass through here first and update you. _I'll be looking for potential culprits, but I'm not sure who_. I thought you might want to help me scope."

A slackening jaw was all Reno got in warning before the blonde soldier bent to set down the coffee pot and straightened, crossing his arms over his chest tightly. He knew the Turk would get the message; Reno was in _trouble_.

"_What_?"Cloud's eyes narrowed at the scuffling and pacing Turk, who was clearly distressed, "I thought you had it under _control_, you made me believe you had someone lined up."

"Yeah, well, it might not work out."

"Sinclair… who and how much did you tell?"

"Axel, and nothing."

"Axel? Your _brother_?" Cloud's hackles fell steadily, "You don't believe he'd help?"

"I'm not sure. He hasn't been returning any of my calls, so I'm left to believe that he's upset with me about something. Though what, I have no idea. I haven't even seen the brat in over a year now, he refuses to step foot in the East HQ."

Axel… Cloud could remember seeing him from afar once, in a joint operation nearly five years ago. He'd kept an ear open for anything pertaining to Reno's little brother, so he was surprised that the Turk hadn't heard what Cloud already knew.

"He might not be returning your calls because he's had something else on his mind. One of his comrades, his partner I think, collapsed a few days ago after they came back through the desert from an assignment. He's been unconscious for over eighty four hours. Apparently, from what I've heard, Axel hasn't left his side for more than an hour since it happened."

Reno looked shocked, and his face was blank as he soaked in the knowledge, "_Roxas_ collapsed? I hadn't heard. Tseng didn't tell me…"

His brow suddenly tightened and his posture stiffened to an uncomfortably straight degree, and he abruptly looked every ounce of the assassin that he was.

"I've gotta go, Cloud. Never mind about helping me, I think I've got it under control. I'll be damned if the Military is going to mess around with my little brother. You just focus on getting to the top, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Cloud murmured sarcastically, but roused himself enough to clamp a supportive hand onto his eccentric friend's shoulder, "as long as you call me and inform me of the situation, and don't kill Tseng. You need him to promote you; if he dies now then Rude or Elena may take his place. We can't let that happen."

A nod was all the response he received, but he let it go. Reno may try and shield himself from the world with a foolish mask, but when it came to family he was the last person someone wanted to mess with. Through even his most turbulent emotions, though, the redhead managed to keep a calculative mind, so Cloud knew he wouldn't act rashly. The Turk knew what was at stake.

The blonde raised an eyebrow at the man who still stood staring at him, "Well? What are you waiting for? Get out of here you traitorous bastard."

That brought the familiar sneer back, along with the glitter in stony gray eyes as the lithe man turned away with a ghost of a backwards wave, "Yeah, I'll call you later, traitor."

Cloud waited until Reno had completely disappeared before he stretched out his sore limbs, preparing to climb back under the ratter and get to work once again. As he continued to work until dawn and through the afternoon to evening, his thoughts were on Reno, Axel, and Axel's fallen comrade Roxas. Maybe they could bring Axel into the loop, but it would have to be fast, which would be risky. However, Xemnas couldn't stay in power much longer, even the greatest generals had to throw their towels in sometime, and Reno and Cloud needed an ally to step up and take that position when it was time.

They hadn't done all this planning and work for nothing. Cloud was prepared to take over the South Branch, and Reno the East. They were already on the top of their superiors' lists in choices of successors. They now just needed someone on their side to take the North Branch. All three Branches combined would give them the power to overthrow Rufus Shinra, even if a few die-hards rebelled against them from within. Power in the Military was like a pyramid; there was the top that eased into a growing base of muddled ranks, and even if a few bricks crumbled in the middle, the foundation would remain strong and the top would be untouched. Most men in the Military were only there for the paycheck, they could care less who or what they were fighting for. Cloud and his allies intended to take full advantage of that when the time came.

Hopefully, with Rufus Shinra out of the way, Cloud and Reno could officially mend relations between the Church and the Military and end this meaningless war. Aerith and he had already planned out every little detail, and it had all been ready to be put into play, all they had needed to do was wait, but now it was going to be a race against the clock to get someone to infiltrate Xemnas's line of successors in time. If worse came to worse, Cloud and Reno would be able to crush the North Branch completely since the Turks and _real_ soldiers would be on their side, but Research and Development was a great resource that would be invaluable once the war ended.

Cloud just hoped they could get through the entire ordeal with as minimal loss of life as possible. However, he knew how hope could be crushed, so he geared himself to prepare for the worst. He knew, no matter how events played out, that his hands would be covered in blood by the time he could stand firm by Aerith's side as a figurehead of the Military and Church alliance, but that was a self-sacrifice he was willing to make. But was Reno really ready to push that same moral sacrifice onto his little brother?

Probably. It wasn't like the younger Sinclair hadn't already killed more than two dozen people already. Cloud just didn't want to believe that the young man could handle a hundred more. No one could destroy that many lives without coming out missing pieces of themselves.

Cloud should know.

He finally climbed out of the engine over thirty hours after Reno's visit, without having stopped once. All he would take a break for was a small sip of coffee or water, and then he was back under or inside the car. But now he was finished. He leaned against the bulky front end, completely exhausted and taking just a moment to scrub at his burning eyes. Then he threw open the steel double doors that led up into the vehicle, which could hold and sustain about twenty soldiers comfortably, and clomped up the stairs in his regulation Military boots to duck under the archway that led to the driver's nook. He settled himself into the seat in front of the wheel and reached to the wall of controls to his right, clicking a few of the switches and checking the fuel and power gages.

Taking a deep breath, he finally yanked the lever that made the machine rumble to life with a roar. He winced, almost expecting to be blown to bits, but the ratter just purred under him. He grasped the wheel and pushed down on the pedal slowly, and the truck jolted into motion. A savage grin split Cloud's lips as he weaved the vehicle around other trucks, seven miller cycles, and aircrafts, heading towards where he knew the enormous gaping exit was.

Twenty minutes later he was stomping through the halls on the top floor of South Branch Headquarters, ignoring the scowls and revolted stares he received as he trailed oil and metal shards onto the pristine, carpeted floors. He could care less; he'd succeeded, and he was going to shove that in General Sephiroth's face in the most subtly ostentatious way possible.

He didn't bother acknowledging the man's flustered secretary or even knocking as he threw the door open and stepped inside the ridiculously large office. Bookshelves and file cabinets took up most of the space, the only personal touch being the great ivory wood desk in the center of the room, and Sephiroth sat there with his back to the wall of windows overlooking the Military compound.

His impossibly tall body was languid and deceivingly relaxed where he sat with his boots up on the edge of his desk and a filed report sitting open in his lap, the place he'd dropped it as soon as the door opened. Now his elbows were set against the arms of his chair, fingers loosely entwined on top of the packet of papers. His trademark ankle-length black coat was hooked over the back of his chair and his shoulder guards and other bulky items of armor were discarded on the floor by the desk.

Cloud rarely saw him in such a vulnerable state, and so he was momentarily as dubious as the sharp lime green eyes staring back at him. He shook himself and gave a dangerously sloppy salute before crossing his arms. Watching those silver brows rise infinitesimally was reward enough for the long straight days of working, and Cloud let a smirk slip onto his lips, uncaring that Sephiroth clearly saw it,

"Sir, would you like to go for a test drive?"

The man himself was now beginning to fall into an alien, almost scary grin.

"You've finished it then?"

"Sephiroth, if you're about to say that you were confident about my success, cut the bullshit. Let me hear it, just this once."

The man shifted, a few long strands of silver hair drifting over his shoulder as he considered the roiling blonde before him.

"Fine, Cloud. I'm _impressed_. Is that what you want to hear?"

Cloud's teeth gnashed at the sarcasm, but he remembered the nearly invisible expression of surprise he'd seen, and his mood lightened immediately. Of course Sephiroth would try and cover it up by getting his soldier's blood boiling with shielding sarcasm. It was one of the many tiny indicators that Cloud had learned over the past years of working for the man; it would be impossible to try and get him to admit he was human even in diminutive ways.

So, keeping the temper- that only seemed to appear around his direct superior- on a tight leash, he shrugged simply, still eyeing the false sense of relaxation that the general had obviously been trying to fall in. Sephiroth noticed and sent a scathing glare over him pointedly, a silent indication that he better not say a word, because the powerful man could have Cloud punished in a second for his dripping, grimy clothes.

"It's six o'clock in the morning, Strife. Go get a few hours of rest and return to me at six in the afternoon."

"And the truck, sir?"

"I'll 'go for a test drive' after a while. I have more important things to attend to right now that don't involve stroking your ego."

Cloud scoffed internally. _His_ ego? Sephiroth was the arrogant, manipulative bastard in the room, not Cloud. But with all their harsh friendly antagonism, Cloud knew an imprecisely veiled threat when it came from his General, and he also recognized when he had been dismissed.

He straightened and snapped another salute, this one a perfect example of ideal protocol. Sephiroth nodded and made a dismissive hand gesture. Cloud's hand shot back to his side and he turned on heel to exit the office.

"Oh, and Cloud?"

"Yes, sir?"

The blonde glanced over his shoulder curiously, to see a smug smirk flit over the general's lips,

"Take a shower before getting in bed, won't you?"

The intimate question made the soldier's face flare and he gave a sharp nod before hurrying away, scowling in discomfiture. Sephiroth had murmured little lines like that plenty of times before and it had become obvious to Cloud long ago that the statements or questions were meant to throw him off-balance and keep him guessing. Their rapport was a confusing one, at each other's throats one moment and handing out witty smiles and chuckles the next, but Cloud knew he needed to keep his distance, for his own sake as well as Sephiroth's.

He needed for the man to hate him so it wouldn't hurt when Cloud turned against him, and he needed to hate the man so that he could. This made him think of his best friend, and his steps began to slow as a dark frown settled on his face. It was the one thing he couldn't think of a solution to in the entire scheme of things; how he could somehow make Squall "Leon" Leonhart join him in his efforts to turn the Military against its corrupt president. Cold fear coiled in him every time he even thought of telling the older man of his true allegiances. There were others, so many others, that would be shocked and hurt when Cloud made his intentions clear, but Leon was the one he worried about the most.

That man didn't trust anybody but Cloud. Maybe if it was anyone else, that would be the thing that kept him by his side, but not Leon. He wouldn't accept the fact that Cloud had kept his coalition with the Church a secret.

As if thinking of him had sent a silent signal, the stormy-eyed brunette rounded the corner just as Cloud was stepping around it, making them collide abruptly and painfully, seeing as how they were both in a near-sprint. The blonde fell back on his heels, dazed, and only Leon's fist clenched in the front of his oil-stained shirt kept him from hitting the ground.

"Strife! Where the hell have you been? I've been looking for you for the past three days."

"Leon…" Cloud shook himself and detached the hand from his chest, rubbing at his aching neck and sighing, avoiding those steel-gray eyes that roiled with intelligence emotion like a quietly passionate stormy sky, "I was working on one of the ratters down in the hangar. Sephiroth's order, sorry."

The quirk of a smile made the corner of the scar crossing Leon's striking face twitch.

"I was just heading up to his office to see if he'd chained you to his desk. I don't understand your fascination with each other, but whatever. Come on, you need a shower."

"If one more person tells me that…"

Leon grinned and a ghost of it spread onto Cloud. They began walking together back to the soldier barracks, taking the stairs to the adjoining floor heading away from the regular ranks. Every Branch in the Military had a group of 'elites' at the top, and they in turn got their own advantages. Instead of bunking with nine other men, Cloud and Leon got a room to their own. Unfortunately, that put them on the same floor as Sephiroth's brothers. Kadaj was the youngest, still a teenager, but was the source of Cloud and Leon's main anxiety. He just wasn't right in the head, and everyone else seemed to let that fact slip. His older brothers Yazoo and Loz were only a little bit better, and followed Kadaj like pups, acting as if the teenager was the next messiah.

Just as Leon was about to open the door to their room, glaring at Cloud's hands, the three silverettes exited their own room, Kadaj loping around his brothers like a wild feline, smiling sharply at the blonde and brunette across the hall.

"Well hey there Squall, Big Brother. Oh my, what's with all that black stuff?"

Both of the men growled lowly at the hated nicknames and Cloud rolled his eyes at the question,

"It's called 'oil', Kadaj. You know, the stuff that gets on you when you actually work for a day in your life."

The teenager's smile turned into a vicious grin as he cocked a hip and ran a hand through his hair, a disturbingly effeminate gesture that made Leon raise a brow and shift uncomfortably on his feet. The boy tracked their prickly movements with a manic glee before bothering to respond,

"Then it's a good thing you do all the heavy work for me, Big Brother. I hate getting _dirty_."

The last part was a purr, which made Cloud's lip draw back. Sometimes Kadaj and his oldest brother Sephiroth shared way too much in common. The only difference was with Kadaj, the words were twisted and made thick disgust rise in the blonde. He turned to Leon and gave a clear look; it was time to ignore and get in that room before Cloud did something he would ultimately regret. Like breaking Kadaj's sneering, pretty face under his heavy boot. Leon nodded, letting their door swing open under his hand.

Suddenly an ear-splitting roar reverberated and the floor shook under their feet, making Cloud brace his hands against the wall. Kadaj toppled to the floor with a loud curse, rolling back to his feet after the trembles subsided. Already, the sound of creaking foundation crashing into pieces was echoing around the building, and more roars sounded, this time accompanied by flashes of lights outside the windows.

Cloud rushed past Leon into the room, grabbing his sword and quickly throwing on his armor, comforted by the feel of the smooth black leather against his skin. He hesitated only long enough for Leon to throw on his jacket and grab his gunblade before rushing back out. The three silverettes were waiting for them, expressions grim and all signs of teasing now gone. As one, the five men hasted through the halls and down to the parade ground, moving to the fore of the already gathered soldiers. Sephiroth met them, his armor now strapped into place and masamune in hand.

"Sir," Cloud snapped yet another salute, this one of determination and loyalty, "What are we looking at?"

"About a hundred beyond the perimeter. They have masks on, everyone with a mask is an enemy, spread the orders."

"Yes, sir!" Cloud and Leon dispersed into the ranks as Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo stood in a triangle around the general. Not that he needed the protection, but they refused to leave their positions around their brother.

As Cloud relayed the orders, a trickle of doubt ran through his blood. The Church had nothing planned today, and they never bothered to hide their identities, so who were these people?

It came to him abruptly, and he told one of the older soldiers to relay his orders to the rest before struggling his way back to the front, where four heads of silver stood strong and confident. The blonde skidded to a halt, pushing Yazoo out of his way to grab Sephiroth's arm. The great man looked down at him threateningly, but shook his head at the fuming Yazoo.

"What is it, Cloud?"

"It's not the Church."

"What?"

"It's not the Church, they don't wear masks. It has to be a nationality outside the Kingdom; they're trying to hide their features and coloring."

Sephiroth considered this, then nodded, "You're right. We have to capture one of them. If another country is making an attack against us, we can't afford to be left in the dark as to why and who. Cloud, make sure you grab one of them and keep them alive, try and get one of the leaders."

"Got it. Be careful, Sephiroth, we don't know what we're up against."

A familiar smirk lighted along with fierce lime eyes, "Concerned, Cloud? You should be eager for my demise."

"Sir?"

"You're the next in line, after all."

The confirmation made Cloud's head spin. It was just another of Sephiroth's mind games again, but he couldn't afford to muse over the distraction. He rolled his eyes at the general, earning a small smile.

"Sephiroth, just stay alive, alright? I'm not ready for all that paperwork yet."

"Be safe, Cloud."

The blonde retreated, letting Yazoo take his place at his brother's side once more. The figures were beginning to come into view, marching professionally and at a slow, steady pace, which solidified the fact that they weren't the Church. They were too organized, too bold. The silver masks shone in the morning sunlight, showing the elegant curves and indents that created snarling, dangerous features.

Whoever was attacking them was _pissed_.

Cloud made his way to the side of the soldiers, glancing over the group. They only had about seventy, but hopefully they were better trained than their mysterious enemies. He turned his focus back to the hundred or so against them, narrowing his eyes at the masks at the front. There were eleven, their masks smiling instead of snarling, so they must be the leaders. Cloud turned his attention to the smile in the center, and withdrew his blade from his back. That would be the one he captured.

Masamune raised high in the air like a slim silver flag and cut down to the side, making the soldiers surge forward as one. Cloud raced against them, making it to the front corner of the mass just as the two forces collided. His eyes were still locked on that one masked figure, taller than the rest, and he pushed his way through the other masks, using his blade to deflect any blows aimed at him without bothering to retaliate.

Finally, he faced the metallic smile, the smell of gun smoke filling his senses as he reached for him.

Gun powder…?

Before his mind could comprehend the scent, pure fire ripped through his stomach, just as his hand closed tightly around a clothed arm. He cried out, but snarled furiously the next moment and brought the hilt of his blade hard into the side of the masked face. The shouts around him rose to desperate volumes as the man fell unconscious in his waiting arms, the words screaming in a different language, and now shots were firing at him on all sides. He dodged most, a few ricocheted off his shoulder guards, but a few found their mark in his flesh.

By the time he'd dragged the man out of the fray, pain was pulsating through his body from various points, making his movements sluggish and clumsy, but he winced back the feelings as he ducked around the rubble of what used to be a statue of the first Shinra president, glad that the man had been large enough to give him proper shelter. He dropped his captive carelessly and took up a guarding position at the side. After the screams, clashes of metal, and exploding gunfire began to fade, he let himself peak around the statue.

The fight was ending as rapidly as it began, like a smoky dream; the enemy was retreating, leaving half of their men bleeding on the cobblestones of the expansive parade ground. Cloud turned back to the man at his feet, who was beginning to rouse himself, and swooped down, flicking away the scratched and dented disguise.

What met him was pale skin the color of snow and dark onyx hair bordering on navy. The attractive face had sharp, narrow features that hid the owner's real age. The man could be fifteen, or seventy five, it was impossible to tell. Now, Cloud wasn't even sure if it was a man. He recognized the uniqueness of the figure though, and as soon as their eyes opened, he was completely sure. Scarlet red eyes stared up at him emotionlessly, saffron around the edges of the iris and bordering the pupil.

"Clandestine," Cloud murmured, taking the person's hand and helping them to their feet gently, "why are you attacking us without the Church's assistance?"

The figure stared at him blankly, slim hand moving to the handle of the gun strapped to the petite waist. Cloud glanced around before sheathing his weapon and raising his hands,

"I'm a friend. What's your name, Clandestine?"

Shimmering, cold eyes regarded him suspiciously, but eventually the Clandestine spoke in a soft female tone,

"My name is Antoinette, Jenovan. And yours?"

"Cloud." The blonde raked his mind, frantically trying to think of a way to get the Clandestine woman out of here. He looked around the corner of the statue again and cursed when he saw Sephiroth striding through the remaining bodies, sliding his sword through each chest and moving to the next. A search party was already being gathered to search for survivors that may have hidden within the confines of Headquarters. A gentle hand brushed his, breaking his concentration and sending the shards to scatter around the edge of his mind. All he could do was stare at the woman as she smiled softly.

"Cloud. I understand, young one. You are a great asset to the Church, and so I will succumb to you."

Her hand pressed his more firmly, and the blonde's brow furrowed as the panic began to fade, calm peace replacing it. Silvery eyes swam with vitality as she placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I will stand as your sacrifice, child. Let the future be governed by your soul, do not let the demons roaming your mind shadow your heart."

Cloud couldn't fight past the fog that was rising in his mind and spreading to his body, dulling the pain of his wounds.

As his body began to sway, he barely managed to choke out, "Run."

He scarcely heard when she replied with some warmth, dragging his lax body into an embrace to bear his weight, "I will not, heaven's child."

"Please," he rasped, clutching at her shoulders, "I can't protect you, you have to run."

"Worry not, child, I will not be broken by your Military."

His vision was turning gray around the edges, and his frame buckled under the Clandestine's influence. Through the haze, a familiar voice shouted.

"Cloud!"

He was wrenched away from the woman, and a scream ripped from his throat at the loss of the numbing touch. Pain hit him like a battering ram and he struggled against the arms holding him securely. He watched Sephiroth wrap his hand around the Clandestine's neck as Leon pulled him away.

_No_!

"LET ME GO!"

"Cloud, listen to me! Stop fighting! You're going to kill yourself!"

He faintly realized that blood was spilling down to his feet, making his struggles futile as he slipped in his own gore, but his eyes were locked on Antoinette being held high off the ground by her throat, Sephiroth's deadly gaze fixed on her.

"Sephiroth, don't hurt her!"

Cat-slit pupils turned on him, but the grip didn't falter, "She was _hexing_ you, Cloud. I should kill her right now."

"She's their leader!" Cloud's boots scrambled on the slippery cobblestones, trying to find a hold even as Leon dragged him further away, towards a grouping of medics.

Indecision flashed in the general's eyes and he finally set the woman on her feet, still keeping a rigid hold on her neck and wrapping his other hand around her wrists, twisting them behind her back. A figure blocked his view of the two, and Cloud gaped uncomprehendingly as Kadaj raised the hilt of his sword, a nasty smirk curving his lips.

"Sorry about this, Big Brother."

Leon arms stiffened around him, and his growling voice came a second too late, "Kadaj, don't!"

The hard, quick strike cracked into Cloud's temple, sending blinding streaks of light across his vision. His body went limp in Leon's grip as unconsciousness took him into its painless embrace.

**AN: Thanks for reading, please review! Next chapter- arguments, Sephiroth, Cloud, and Leon.**


	5. The Wicked Hearts

CHAPTER FIVE: The Wicked Hearts

Sephiroth watched Leon carry an unconscious Cloud to the waiting medics, fingers tightening their clutch around the Clandestine woman.

"Why did you do it?" he demanded coolly, eyes narrowing on the woman after the blonde was out of sight, "You could have just influenced him and run. Why did you stay?"

The woman's head tilted, as if curious, but her eyes remained on the ground as she answered,

"His will was too strong, I wouldn't have gotten far."

Sephiroth almost snorted, but contained himself and settled for observing the work of his soldiers around them. Already bodies were being towed away to be burned or prepared for burial. The Clandestines had lost about fifty, but only about seven of Sephiroth's men were dead. The attack was too sloppy, too desperate. It was an assault built off of pure emotion, there was no preparation whatsoever. He was opening his mouth to ask the woman why the Clandestines suddenly harbored so much hatred for the Military, when her soft-spoken question struck like a venomous snake,

"You are in love with him, aren't you?"

Sephiroth sneered and motioned to Kadaj and Yazoo from across the parade ground. They caught the signal and made their way through the confusion of soldiers elegantly, but not nearly fast enough. The woman was still talking.

"Sephiroth… he fears the darkness harbored in your heart, he wants to help you but doesn't know how."

"We all have darkness in our hearts, even Cloud." Sephiroth wondered idly why he bothered to respond. He chalked it up to the legendary 'irresistible charm' of the Clandestine race.

"Cloud is one of the few that seeks to eliminate his darkness. If you want him to be anything more than a puppet to you, you have to try and cure yours."

"I've killed far too many innocents to turn back now."

"The Gods forgive all who request forgiveness, prince of darkness."

Now the general was scowling, and refused to remark on the ridiculousness of her theories. As soon as Kadaj and Yazoo reached him, he shoved the Clandestine warrior at them callously.

"Take her to the holding cells and watch her."

"Yes, brother." They said in tandem, each taking an arm and hauling the now mute woman away.

Sephiroth pushed all thoughts of Cloud and the Clandestine's words away, turning to give orders to his soldiers. He made sure the situation was in control, putting Loz in command, so that he could return to his office. Setting his trusty masamune against a wall, he made a beeline for the phone, dialing rapidly.

It took moments for the line to pick up, and Sephiroth leaned against his desk,

"Tseng. South Headquarters was just attacked by Clandestines."

"_Really. So were we._"

"About a hundred?"

"_No, only fifty. Did you happen to capture any of them_?"

"We have the leader in custody."

"_Excellent. There were no survivors on our side_."

"Of course not," Sephiroth smirked wryly, "have you spoken to Xemnas yet?"

_"They were also attacked, but their fire-wielder made quick work of the Clandestines. President Shinra is safe with me and is curious as to why the assaults were engaged."_

"As soon as we clean up here I will personally question the Clandestine in custody. Tell Rufus that it's in my opinion that we shouldn't coordinate a counterattack until we have more information."

"_Understood. It seems I'll be seeing you soon, General_."

"I'll bring the Clandestine in a few days, as soon as I have someone to take over here."

"_Is Cloud Strife off base_?"

Sephiroth hesitated, but decided lying wouldn't be a good choice, "Brigadier Strife was wounded during the battle and will need time to recover."

"_Brigadier_?"

"He's just been promoted."

"_I see_," the Turk leader's voice was subtly amused, "_then I wish the Brigadier-General a swift recovery. I'll see you in a few days, Sephiroth_."

"Until then."

Sephiroth hung up and let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling of his office and listening to the sounds of his soldiers milling about outside. He should get up and relieve Loz of coordinating, but he had one more call to make, one that he knew he was going to regret.

Only an hour after he set down the phone once more, Colonel Leonhart found him still in his office writing up a report of the attack. The scarred man was absolutely livid, but Sephiroth didn't even flinch under the fierce predatory glare. It took a predator to know one, and Sephiroth was way above Leon in that regard. The brunette slammed the door behind him and strode forward to cross his arms in front of the general's desk.

"General Sephiroth, what are you playing at?"

"Colonel?"

"You're sending Cloud to the North? Do you want him to become a lab rat?"

"Do you disagree with my decision, Leonhart?"

"You know what Vexen will do with him."

Sephiroth sighed internally, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose to dispel the headache forming behind his eyes.

"Colonel, Doctor Even is the only one who can reverse the Clandestine's influence over Strife. If I don't send him to the North, Strife will lose his sanity within days. Besides, I have control of the situation."

Leon jerked an arm straight to the side, pointing to the wall in indication of the world outside, "Once Cloud passes over South HQ's threshold you have _no control_. I don't care how powerful you are or how far your connections stretch; once he's out of your sight he is vulnerable to any Military sociopath that has a hold of him."

"And that's why I'm trusting _you _to make sure nothing unfortunate happens to him in the North."

The colonel faltered, his arm falling back to his side, "Sir?"

"You're taking him to Doctor Vexen Even. You will not stray from your path, and you will not let him out of your sight. Understand?"

There was a silent moment in which Leon's edgy bearing slowly slumped in defeat. "Understood, sir."

"Dismissed. I expect you to grab a cycle and be out of here within the hour."

"Yes, sir."

The brunette turned and left at a near-sprint. Sephiroth only contemplated the wisdom of his decision for a moment before turning back to his paperwork. If he couldn't entrust even Squall Leonhart with Cloud Strife's life, then the Clandestine's words could be proven as true. If Sephiroth felt that only he could protect the blonde, he may as well be in love with Cloud Strife. Which he wasn't. Which was why he was letting Colonel Leonhart take the newly-promoted Brigadier General through Hollow Bastion to the North.

Which reminded the general that he had to file the paperwork to officially promote Strife.

And with two colonels gone, he only had his little brothers to rely on to control his infantry

Alone in the inner sanctum of his office, Sephiroth pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

†

Leon practically hurtled through the halls, ignoring the loud protests of soldiers he swept past or pushed aside. As soon as he skidded into the medical bay, his eyes fell on Cloud. His friend was still unconscious, his face twisted in pain as a few medics hovered around his prone and pale body.

"What's his status?" Leon barked at the closest one.

The petite woman looked up from the blonde and straightened once she noticed the absence of a uniform. She offered a short salute until Leon motioned impatiently.

"Sir, he's stable for now but we're unsure of his mental condition."

"Injuries?"

"Three bullet wounds to his left leg, one to his stomach, and one to his shoulder. They've all been removed safely, but we're concerned about the damage the wound to his abdomen caused. Infection is a likely and very serious risk right now."

"Is there medication he can take?"

"Of course, but he needs to be closely watched. He was also severely dehydrated and suffering from extreme exhaustion. We're pumping fluids into him now."

"I'm discharging him."

She sputtered, shaking her head sharply, "That's impossible, sir. He's not in the state of mind to be moved, and like I said, infection-

"I'll be taking him directly to Doctor Even in the North, I'll be cautious about his mental state until then. The discharge forms, please."

The medic knew she couldn't order Cloud to stay, so she ducked her head obediently and scurried away. Leon turned his eyes back to Cloud. The blonde's attractive features had smoothed out with a quick injection of morphine, and Leon would have thought he was dead if it wasn't for the slight shift of his chest with every breath.

This man had been Leon's best friend for the past decade, and had somehow remained unaffected by the Military's corruption, unlike the scarred brunette. What stupefied Leonhart even more was how the blonde had clawed his way to the top without any political deception. Wriggling his way into General Sephiroth's besmirched heart was unintentional and dangerous, but had put him right on top. Leon could only stay by his side and try to make sure that he didn't fall into a twisted web of sleaze and taint.

The brunette had been in the Military since he was twenty two, for almost a decade and a half, and though he loved his country and his job, he feared every day that Cloud would turn into just another marionette for them.

All Leon could do was stand aside and make sure that their leaders kept their greedy claws out of Cloud's heart.

The medic returned with the proper forms, which Leon promptly signed and gave back without a glance. A different medic handed him a bag and went through the contents with him; morphine and the needle to administer it with, the antibiotics to fight infection, and several rolls of hundred-yard bandages. Leon paid close attention when being instructed on how to use each item but every nerve in his body was ready to _move_. He'd be damned if Cloud's sanity was going to be foiled by an insignificant Clandestine woman, no matter how much having to take him to Vexen disturbed Leon.

Like the general had instructed, he had Cloud securely slumped on a seven miller cycle in front of him before a half hour had passed. He pulled the limp form against his chest and kick-started the vehicle, his arms on each side of the blonde as he steered out of the hangar. He had packed enough supplies to last them for a week and knew that was enough, but still felt trepidation seep into his heart as he passed the Military checkpoint and turned onto the highway. It was a familiar dread that always hit him when he was turning away from his comfort zone and into unfamiliar territory.

His arms tightened around Cloud as they sun rose higher and higher. They were out of civilization and crossing the hundreds of miles of fields that separated the Southern Military Headquarters and the large city in the center of the East when Cloud began to stir. Leon was about to pull the cycle to the side of the road, worried that the blonde would be hysterical, but the soft, murmured voice kept him from skidding to a stop.

"Leon…?"

"Yeah, Cloud. How are you feeling?"

Cloud's body stiffened a little as the man began to take in their surroundings, and suddenly his hands clenched around Leon's, his slim body curling around the small machine.

"What the hell! Where are we?"

"On the highway," Leon chuckled, knowing how Cloud got flustered when he wasn't in control of a vehicle he was on or in, "headed to the North Headquarters, Sephiroth's orders. He wants you to see Vexen?"

"What? Hell no, I'm fine."

"Cloud, you were full of bullets an hour ago and near delirious."

"That was an hour ago. I'm fine now."

The stubborn determination made Leon roll his eyes and just continue on in silence. Cloud sputtered many more protests, but the pain was beginning to take a hold of him and his complaints tapered off into half-consciousness. Leon only thought for a moment about morphine before shaking it off. The younger man already had enough in his system, adding any more could be lethal. Besides, Leon would rather him squirm in pain than try to fight getting help.

When darkness was beginning to settle hours later, the silhouette of Hollow Garden appeared on the horizon.

"Should we stay the night in the city, or do you want to keep moving and get this over with?" Leon asked half-heartedly, knowing what the answer would be.

"Stop," was the groaned response, "I don't give a damn how bad off you think I am; I'm driving next."

The brunette's smirk was hidden behind Cloud's back. His hand twisted on the gears, sending the cycle speeding faster towards the rapidly growing city lights.

"Fine, just don't sneak out of the hotel room."

"Leon… you're a real asshole, you know that right?"

**AN: Next chapter- Roxas and Axel, family troubles, ...another attack?  
;D Please leave me a review and tell me how I did!**


	6. Fallen Angel

**AN: Probably one of my favorite chapters to write, ever. :) The 'action' scene I guess you can call it was just a flash of inspiration that I can now build off of perfectly. Beautiful how writing works, right?  
Thank you 'Define Anonymous' for all your wonderful comments that make me feel fuzzy and determined inside! :) And I followed your advice and checked it out, but once a story is already started you can't change it to Crossover. :/ So I guess I'll have to suffer the consequences. Thanks anyway for trying to help, it means alot. **

CHAPTER SIX: Fallen Angel

Time passed like a colorless, shapeless fog and before he knew it Axel had been sitting by a cataleptic Roxas's side for what seemed like ages when an all too familiar figure stepped into the darkened hospice room. He was all quick, edgy, and thin lines as he treaded to the side of the bed across from Axel. His usually wild hair had been straightened and for once it was out of the ponytail, resting against his shoulders like a jagged bunch of bloody feathers.

"Reno," Axel's voice cracked from under-use and he cleared his throat callously, stretching his arms above his head and legs out in front of him, wincing at the painful pleasure of popping joints, "what are you doing here?"

Blue-gray eyes regarded him with something akin to irritation, and with a flip of the hair, Reno began pacing. Axel simply rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, letting his body sag deeper into his chair's embrace. Roxas was oblivious between them, like he had been for the past week. Vexen was puzzled after doing many tests and trying various treatments, to no avail. After the fifth day of attempts, he had withdrawn, saying he was going to research and try to find a solution. But with every passing day, Axel was becoming more and more desperate. Roxas just wouldn't wake up.

As if he'd read his thoughts, Axel's older brother murmured quietly, as if afraid to disturb Roxas's slumber, "Do they know what's wrong with him yet?"

"Not a clue," Axel drawled, hiding his distress in cynicism, "at first I figured it was heat stroke, but now I'm wondering if he just had a plain stroke. He's been like this for a week now."

"So I heard. Why didn't you call me?"

The younger Sinclair scoffed, glaring at the Turk that had halted in his pacing, "Are you serious, Reno? How was I supposed to know you'd care?"

"Because I'm your brother, damn it!"

Their eyes clashed, a contrast of skeptical emerald and tempestuous blue.

Reno was the first to speak, returning to his pacing and breaking the stare, "You haven't answered _one_ of my calls, and I haven't even _seen_ you in forever! What the _hell_ did I do to piss you off, Axel?"

Axel fixated his narrowed eyes on the prone blonde in front of him, a confusing array of emotions swirling in his chest cavity and making his brow crease, "I'm trying to protect Roxas."

"By staying away from _me_? What the hell, you're my _brother_, do you not _trust_ me? I care about the brat too, ya know."

"Why would you care about him?"

"Because he's your friend! God damn it, Axel! Why the fuck am I such a danger to him?"

Axel finally snapped, fingers digging into his own skin violently, "You're just another dog for the Military! How am I supposed to trust you, Reno? It doesn't matter that you're my brother; you've murdered too many other people within the Military for me to be able to have faith in you anymore. If you had the orders to, you'd murder Roxas regardless of how much I cared about him."

Reno was completely stunned; his hands were open at his sides and his cranked jaw was loose in disbelief. Slim red brows were curved upwards and gray eyes looked… relieved? Axel stared at him in unadulterated bewilderment and his brother stared back with a similar expression.

"Little Brother… I'm not as dedicated to the Turks as you think. I have murdered, yes, but so have you. Don't be an ignorant hypocrite."

Foreboding rose, and Axel's jaw twinged in response, "What do you mean 'not as dedicated'?"

Reno didn't get a chance to respond; the door was thrown open and Vexen hurried in, a book in one hand and a vial of red liquid in the other. He spared a fleeting nod at the Turk Colonel before turning to Axel with glimmering, slightly insane emerald eyes.

"I believe I know what's wrong with Major Axors, Colonel."

"Well?" Axel muttered, choking back the rising hope before it could take hold of him.

"Let me just see…"

The scrawny scientist scurried to the bedside, hanging the vial above Roxas's chest with solid determination, lips curling in anticipation. Axel was about to growl at the man, annoyed at the meaningless interruption and idiotic performance, when Roxas began to stir. The redheaded brothers leaned closer in astonishment as Vexen grinned elatedly, swishing the scarlet liquid around between two bony fingers. Roxas's dark navy eyes snapped open and his body sprang into motion, sitting up hastily.

"Whoa!" Axel braced his palms against wiry shoulders and soothingly pushed the boy back down, "Roxas, you're in hospice. You've been out for about a week, so take it slow," he turned his incredulous eyes to Doctor Even, who was still grinning like a madman, "how'd you do it, Doc?"

"Major Axors, my dear colonels, is what the Church calls a 'Fallen Angel'."

"A what?" frosty alarm began to twist itself in Axel's gut, and he looked across to Reno, who was quickly constructing a mask to hide the abrupt excitement that etched itself into his sly features.

Vexen's exhilaration couldn't be hidden, however, even in the face of Axel's trepidation, "A Fallen Angel, Axel. In this vial is Angel blood, it acts as a- well, this is my supposition- as a battery to him. Somewhere, there is an Angel that shares power with Roxas. They must have come in contact somehow, though I'm not really educated much in Fallen Angels. All I know is that Roxas Axors is of a very, very, very _rare_ breed. Even being near a trace of an Angel, like this blood, is enough to empower him, but take it away and he's as functional as a doll. I think coming into contact with an Angel triggered it, but like I said, I'm not certain. I'll have to research it further. Major Axors should remain here until I have more information, for safety's sake."

"Wait, _what's_ a Fallen Angel, exactly? I don't understand, I've never heard of them before."

Vexen shrugged dolefully, running a hand through his lifeless, stressed hair, "All I know is that they somehow react to Angels, which explains his affinity for them, and that they only appear once a century, and that's if we're lucky."

"So you think Roxas is a… Fallen Angel… because he regained consciousness from being near Angel blood… how did you get Angel blood?"

"Yes, that's my theory, and by extracting it from an Angel of course."

The younger Sinclair shook his head, trying to think around the perplexity and anxiety buzzing in his mind. What the hell was a Fallen Angel, and was Roxas really one? It could explain why he suddenly disobeyed orders back in the desert after finding Riku and Sora…

Roxas moaned from the starched bed sheets, shifting uncomfortably and wincing noticeably, "Research all you want; I'm getting out of here, now."

Axel let him swing his legs over the edge of the hospice bed, hands open and ready to catch the blonde, but he appeared stronger than he had been in more than just the past week. Sending a scathing look towards the hesitating doctor, Axel snatched away the vial of blood and pressed it into Roxas's hand.

"Hold onto this, Rox. For all we know this is the only thing keeping you awake."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard the whole 'Fallen' whatever speech. I got it."

And just like that, the teenager was on his feet. He barely had time to raise a curious brow at Reno before a shrill alarm began to shriek throughout the building.

"What a wakeup call," the blond grumbled, pressing his palms over his ears.

At the same moment Vexen spun around and rushed to the door, fingers stretching for the lever that would close all the hospice rooms off with a steel sheet.

"Wait!"

Axel sent a pleading look to his brother, clearly saying 'take care of him?', and Reno responded with an effortless nod. The soldier ducked past Vexen into the hall and gave the scientist a thumbs-up. The old man shook his head, frowning fiercely, but pulled the lever. Loud thuds immediately began to race up the hall on either side, sending impenetrable walls of metal down over the wooden doors and vulnerable windows. As Axel began to clomp down the halls to the stairs he double-checked his rifle and ammunition, scrutinizing each chamber of the weapon with a critical eye.

What was this? They were being assailed for the second time in a month? What the hell was the Church looking for; surely they knew by now that their Angel had escaped?

Three flights of stairs passed like a dream, the heart-throbbing call of adrenaline already searing its way through Axel's veins. He let his body use the downward momentum to propel him past the soldiers already gathered in the massive front corridor of the North Branch HQ. Most were already sweating and shaking, the fear clouding their eyes making them fumble their weapons clumsily. Only a few of them were still and blank-faced. Axel caught sight of Xigbar, Larxene, and Luxord as he shoved past nervous scientists, but Brigadier Saix and General Xemnas were nowhere to be seen. The other colonels were calling their men to order as well as they could, Larxene beginning to snarl at the men in her command.

It was there, the rancid scent of fear and aura of panic, and then it was gone in a flash as the redhead broke through the front doors of the colossal compound. Long waves of heather bordered the acre of concrete surrounding HQ, their golden hues making the wide road stretching outward look like a calm gray river. The relatively large group of men appeared as if they were walking on water, the movements of their legs not in harmony; they were barely in lines. Even though they were about fifty meters away, Axel could see the sun reflecting off their metallic faces and the swords they carried already unsheathed.

_Masks… what the hell?_

They steadily came closer to the skyscraper that was HQ, and Axel glanced back at the front glass wall. The twenty five or so unprepared scientists/soldiers hesitated, staring out with wide eyes and pale faces. They weren't ready for this. No wonder the Church breached the walls a week ago. He then looked back out at the mass of obviously equipped men rising against them. There were about seventy of them, maybe a hundred. Axel had no choice; it was destroy or be destroyed. Even though he didn't care much for the sniveling, useless scientists under his command, he couldn't just let them get slaughtered.

His palms were raised resolutely to press against his chest. He let the gun in his hand fall to the ground and focused intently on the roiling, burning power that hummed just under his skin. It was like some kind of demon, he thought nonchalantly, unnoticed when not in use but eager to break from its confines when murder was on the mind. It took mere seconds for the hovering, buzzing energy to spring forward into his grasp. His brows furrowed and he clinched the power tight in the fore of his body, attempting to draw out as much as he possibly could.

It was how he thought pulling out one's heart might feel like; numb at first, but then painful the further it was drawn into exposure, until it was completely free and the tether of pain snapped into a hollow feeling, with life burning hot and heavy in his palms. When he reopened his eyes, familiar weapons had appeared in his hands in wisps of dancing, fervent flames. The chakrams had come as a surprise at first, and it had taken him a while to learn how to properly use them, but they were just objects that acted like a bridge for his real power.

He let numbness wash over him as he raised them to aim at the group of impending enemies. Reno was right; it didn't matter who it was, friend or foe, murder was murder. But sometimes, murder wasn't avoidable. He twirled his body in a pivoted arc, swooping down to gain strength and speed before letting the jagged circular weapons fly from his hands. They left twin sweeps of spinning flames in their trails and kept to a winding but accurate path to the masks in the distance.

Axel stretched out his hands, pressing his thumbs together with his palms facing the departed chakrams. He waited tensely, eyes narrowing and lips moving, counting down the time it would take the weapons to reach the group. As soon as the chakrams curved around the front line of troops, the lone soldier pushed every ounce of power inside him outwards, and it burst like a grenade had exploded in his torso.

A massive whirlwind of savage fire enclosed the masks, forming a wild red and yellow sphere in which there could be no escape. The heat wave nearly knocked him off his feet even this far back, and the screams hit him a second later. They rose and mingled like a disquieting cacophony of wraiths, making icy shivers rake down Axel's spine. He stumbled back, still shocked at the carnage even though it was what he'd expected.

Boot falls clicked up behind him on the smooth white cement and stopped only feet away while he was still recovering from the aftermath of destruction.

"Colonel Sinclair, I'm impressed. It has been awhile since you showed us your full abilities, I'd almost forgotten. You've also neutralized the threat before they could harm an ant on our ground. Very well done."

"Sir!" Axel whirled around with a smart salute, looking up at his general with the mixed emotions of apprehension and pride. It was extremely rare that Xemnas complimented or commended anyone, so this came as a pleasant, although gruesome considering the circumstances, surprise, "Would you like me to lead the reconnaissance party?"

Cool gold eyes stared down at him contemplatively, before there was a quick nod, "Take your men and Larxene will take a few of hers. Scour every inch they touched and try to find the direction they came from. A group of that size had to have camped somewhere for the night, and I'll bet it's not far. I also want a few of those masks and one of the bodies to study. Get to it, soldier."

"Yes, sir!" Axel ignored the little shudder of abhorrence at the thought of having to drag one of the mangled, burnt corpses back, swallowing it in the face of his orders. Disobeying his general was simply not an option.

Now that the threat had been eliminated, the scientists had holstered their weapons and were flooding through the doors, gathering under their respective colonels. Axel took a quick purview of his own men and picked out one of the ones with a stronger stomach.

"Anders, I want you to take Tork, Myers, Jones, and Slader for clean up. Each of you will grab a mask while you do it, and grab one of the bodies that are in better condition than the others when you head back. Jones, you take pictures of each body and face, I don't care how burned up it is. The flames were high enough to be seen by the closest houses, so let's get this cleaned up before civilians begin to catch wind of this and snoop around. Mortes, you're with me."

Axel waved to Larxene where she was organizing and relaying orders to her squad. She nodded quickly, throwing a heavily laden bag to one of her men before joining Axel at the front of the merging cluster of soldiers. They made their way wordlessly down the road towards where flames still flickered about a foot off the ground. Axel didn't bother using any more of his energy to put it out; it would die off by the time they reached the scene of carnage.

Already, the familiar scent of burnt flesh wafted past them, and muffled gags rose in the ranks behind him, but Axel kept walking, taking an almost comfort in the smell. It was like a florist becoming immune to the perfume of their flowers after being around it for a while; it became a natural essence that passed through him without any real stimulation in response. The cloying odor made his muscles relax, in fact, as he took in the expansive fields of grain on either side of the highway. Despite the enormous level of activity in every Military Headquarters, there was a forty click distance between the skyscrapers and any other building, supposedly for protection. They would be able to see the enemy and would be able to prepare for attacks, and the secrets within every base's walls were kept at a safe distance from the public eye.

Although the law of the public had been established long before his time, Rufus Shinra had made it a point to communicate to the civilians that they were free to express their opinions without fear of punishment. Clever, because this gave the president a valuable source of information whenever he decided to dip his hands into the rumor mill. The newspapers had helped them capture gang leaders and murderers, and even a few spies affiliated with the Church. However, it was a double-edged blade; in return, civilians could publish their suspicions about the secretive operations constantly going on within the Military, which made distancing soldiers from the regular populace a necessity. But sometimes their deductions came eerily close to the unsettling truth, despite the Military's reservations.

This line of thought brought Axel back to his and Roxas's doubts. Was the Military now hiding things from their own soldiers? Even their elite soldiers? The experience of meeting Riku and Sora was still spinning around Axel's mind ruthlessly, tiny details wriggling their way into the forefront of his mind when he least expected it. The past week of waiting for Roxas to wake up he'd replayed the entire scene over and over again, picking out particulars that his partner had singled out immediately. The insignias stitched into their clothing were one thing, and the darkness that Riku wielded was another, but Sora… Axel remembered the boy's boisterously oscillating emotions, and the purity that glimmered in sky-blue eyes, but he wouldn't have set the kid apart from any other Church associated teenager. He certainly wouldn't have pegged him for an Angel. He seemed too naïve, too imprudent and blithe. But maybe that's what Riku was there for; his title is Guardian, so does he guard his Angel from making extremely idiotic mistakes? Did Riku make mistakes?

Was that Sora's blood in the vial that Roxas now had to carry like a lifeline?

_When_ were they captured, if so?

_How_ did they escape?

_Who_ was the traitor within the Military?

_Why _was Reno acting so _strange_?

_What _the _hell_ was happening to everything and _everyone_?

_Where_ were the Gods when he _needed _them?

"Axel, you go on ahead and find their campsite, I'll handle this."

He tilted his head to glance at Larxene from the corner of his eye and nodded slowly, moving ahead with Mortes on his heels. Weaving around the burnt bodies, he was surprised to find that not all of them were blackened, and only a few were bleached skeletons lying in piles of ash. Many still had flesh clinging to their bones, and one or two may have even survived. Larxene would soon enough take care of any who continued to exist. His eyes swept over the massacre with detached curiosity, taking in the scowling, metallic masks and noting distantly that only some of them were smiling. Mortes's stuttering breaths were echoing in his ears from where the man was panting behind him, obviously unused to such merciless slaughter, but Axel didn't even bother to turn around and reassure the man. He just kept moving, kept stepping over skeletons with jagged, crumbling ribs and digging his heels into lumps of ash that used to be someone's arm or leg or chest or face.

He had no mantra, no words of reassurance for himself. He could tell himself that he had no choice, but the guilt wasn't even solid enough yet for him to care about repenting or begging forgiveness from the Gods. In fact, as soon as he'd stepped inside the extensive circle of charcoal his mind had gone completely blank, as if words had become something alien to him. Images passed through his eyes and were directly catalogued into his brain where he would analyze them later.

It was only when he was passing an undisguised and virtually pristine cadaver that a single thought rang loud and clear through his head. His voice rang high in the air, piercing the grim silence that had taken over every soldier, "Clandestine!"

He saw Larxene's lithe figure crouch down straight away, her frost-blonde hair shifting as she tilted her head inquisitively. He saw her elfin hand tear away a mask and a reticent, curious noise left her lips. Arctic green eyes met his own astringent ones from across the chaos, and she called back, "Here, too! Are they all Clandestine?"

Affirmative hollers began to chime out, and Axel turned back around, flicking a hand forward for a puzzled Mortes's sake. Leaving the destruction and death behind, the colonel felt the lack of sensation begin to slowly ebb away until his mind was sharpening once more, scanning the unmarred vastness of road and fields before him.

"Sir, I don't mean to infringe on your orders, but why did you ask me to cover your six? You could have come alone, not that I'm saying I object to your orders."

Axel bristled at the hastily grumbled words, and knew by his tone that Mortes had been pondering over the fact ever since they set off.

Mortes was one of the younger men, with mousy brunette hair and childlike hazel eyes. Even though he was one of the youngest under Axel, he was twenty four, which was still a year older than the colonel. However, Mortes, unlike many of his other men, followed orders to the mark and looked at Axel with nothing but unbiased respect. If Roxas wasn't around, Mortes was his next choice; he knew the man would watch his back.

Reminding himself of this fact, he let his muscles relax, forcefully diminishing the temporary fury that took hold. He'd worked hard for his place as colonel, had centered the past four years around it, so insubordination chafed at his pride like a dagger, and his punishment was usually as harmful. But he couldn't punish Mortes, the man was only curious. And so Axel turned with his lighthearted grin, a slim brow crooking,

"The buddy system, major. Can't hurt to prepare for hurt. Right? Besides, you have better eyesight than me; what do you see?"

Mortes stepped up beside him, apparently appeased by the bizarre answer, and used a hand to shield his eyes from the sun slanting in at them from the east. He scrutinized the area for many seconds before letting his arm drop and shrugging fractionally, "I don't see a whole lot of anything, Colonel Sinclair."

"Good! Neither do I. Come on, let's get back and help out the other majors."

At Mortes's hesitation, Axel sighed and turned back around from where he had been reversing his direction towards Headquarters, "Mortes, what do you see out there?"

"Nothing, sir."

"And what did we learn while passing through the deadfield?"

"The enemy was the Clandestines, sir?"

"Right, so what does that mean?"

It finally dawned on him, like Axel knew it would after some urging, "They probably didn't stop to camp at all, sir."

"Because?"

"Because although Clandestines are of a philosophical race, their bodies can withstand hunger, exhaustion, and thirst much better than ours can. They could walk for a hundred miles before getting tired enough to have to stop."

"Which means?"

"Which means that we could walk for a hundred miles and still not find their campsite, sir. I apologize for my triviality, sir."

"Apology accepted, soldier. I enjoy your company no matter how dimwitted you can be sometimes."

They grinned at each other and Axel clapped a hand to the man's shoulder, steering him back towards the other milling soldiers. They had to wrap up the situation, and fast. Already he could hear the distant rumbling of a vehicle echoing around the empty fields, and they needed to make sure whoever it was saw nothing but a suspicious scorch mark marring the surface of the road for a few hundred feet, and that was it. Civic outcry was the second worst enemy of the Military, finding an army of dead bodies beaten where they stood would fuel the rumor mill. Every day, more and more people were fleeing to the West; they couldn't afford to be outnumbered by the Church because people didn't trust their government.

Larxene had gained control of the scene and half of the bodies were already being towed back to be buried or finished burning. A ratter was cranking its way up the road towards them, so Axel set his sights on collecting masks and examining each body. They were all Clandestine, which meant it would be impossible to predict their exact ages, so he focused on their health and the limited supplies they had that had survived the fire. Investigating was second nature to him now, but it still felt like a half-hearted attempt without Roxas at his side. He felt half-alive, as if Roxas carried a part of him wherever he went, and when they were apart the darker side of Axel rose to take claim over his body and mind. He was all cold calculation, his usual humor completely gone. If the blonde had been there he would have made some dismally comical comment about the state of affairs, but all will had stayed behind HQ's walls, centered on the medical ward.

Within an hour it was like the only thing that had happened was a faulty grenade accident in an unusual spot. Axel was leading his men away from the scene when a civil vehicle appeared in the distance. He didn't bother turning back; he'd let Xaldin's majors take care of it.

He needed to get back to Roxas and get him out of Doctor Even's care before the man did something that would turn out unfortunate for everyone involved.

**AN: Next chapter- Zexion, Demyx, trouble in Church, and an old 'friend'. ;) Drop me a review and I'll be sure to update faster~! Love all you readers, even the lurkers who break my heart so by not telling me how they feel about the story. :'( Ciao!**


	7. The Doctor's Assistant

**AN: I'm getting mouth surgery tomorrow so I may not be able to post chapter eight as quickly as I've been posting the last many chapters, but if I get enough reviews I may be forced to update faster. ;p**

**Thank you Define Anonymity for all your reviews, they're helping me get this out with at least a little confidence. :) I'm flattered by such praise since I know most writers on here are much better than me, so THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! **

**Finally, we get to Zexion, one of my most personal favorites. There are many Zexion characterisations out there; the emo, the drama queen, the cruel and hateful, and -in this story's case- the young and quiet genius. I hate the whole 'Zexion is emo' thing. In which game did someone even get that idea? Just because someone's intelligent and quiet doesn't mean they cut themselves and cry all the time. Even if he was a little dramatic in Chain of Memories, it was a cynical type of drama, not a woe-is-me drama. Geez. Okay, sorry, rant over. I hope you like the chapter, READ AND REVIEW! :]**

CHAPTER SEVEN: The Doctor's Assistant

Zexion Ienzo used to think he may be the greatest researcher in the entire Kingdom. Now, he was beginning to doubt himself. He'd pored over every single book in the Church's central library, had discovered many tiny facts about light, darkness, and elements he had never thought of or heard of before, but he was still at a loss on how to help Sora. No one knew what was wrong with the youngest Angel, and that's the main thing that frustrated Zexion. Not being able to help was one thing, but not knowing if you had the ability to help at all was agonizing.

He was beginning concede that he had drawn at a blank when Demyx bolted into the library, out of breath and shaky, a week after they put the last barrier up. The blonde smacked the book out of Zexion's hand and ignored the incredulous, irate glare he was gifted with. Instead he grabbed his Guardian's slim wrist and hauled him upward, dragging him from the sanctuary of the library.

"Demyx, what-

"The Clandestines just attacked the Military on all sides; Aerith is gathering everyone together in the chapel. They've already started talking, and it doesn't sound good."

"Why would the Clandestines initiate an offensive movement without our aid?" Zexion struggled to comprehend even as he was towed through the long, blank white marble corridors after Demyx.

The Angel hesitated, but shook his head briefly as if he was as disbelieving as Zexion, "I don't know. Cloud called a little bit ago, he said a hundred or so attacked the Military's South and North HQ, and about fifty went for the East. He thinks it was an emotional move, not strategic."

"Did they succeed?"

"No. General Sephiroth's and the Turk leader Tseng's men beat them down really fast, apparently. In the North they never even made it to the building."

"Survivors?"

Demyx's usually cheery obliviousness was nowhere near the surface as he met Zexion's steel-blue eyes, "One. Captured by Cloud," at the mounting wrath obvious in his Guardian's bristling body, the blonde shook his head, "she wouldn't run. He tried to send her away but she influenced him. He's headed to the North HQ to get the influence she put over him broken, and then he'll be coming our way."

"Why did this require an urgent meeting, then? We can't change anything after the fact."

"Aerith is afraid the Clandestines are tired of waiting and are going to try and start an even bigger war, like, intercontinental-big, so she needs someone to go and talk to their Council. They're deciding who to send, and how."

The sound of many murmuring voices began to drift down the hall, echoing off the sharp walls to end up as a meaningless jumble of muffled words in Zexion's ears. The tension was already tangible in the air even though they were still a few rooms away. Shaking himself, the intellectual ripped his arm away from the boy and slowed his pace as he thought. Demyx slowed with him, but his anxiety was apparent in the long musician's fingers that were tapping the thighs under his white trousers in a sporadic beat, and the way those grassy eyes were darting around before locking onto Zexion's face for a few moments and moving away again.

"Why not just go to Twilight Town and take a boat from there? Why debate over that much?" Zexion asked at last.

Twilight Town was built on a slight mountain on the south edge of the desert, nestled between the desert and the ocean which also put it right into the middle of the Military and Church dividing border. It in the south and Destiny Islands in the north were the only completely neutral cities left in the Kingdom. The ocean separated the Kingdom from Clandestia and Twilight Town was the only port that had ships charting a course between the countries ever since the Clandestines announced their allegiance to the Church. Zexion was puzzled as to why they even had to argue about the situation, but Demyx's next words explained everything.

"The Military put a strict bypass on Twilight Town's ports. No one is going to be able to leave on those ships until this whole mess is cleared up. Bad timing, huh?"

The voices now began to take shape into a charged argument, and Zexion could detect Riku's and Zack's voice at the fore. Turning a corner, Demyx ducked into the doorway leading to the chapel, keeping his head low and attempting to go unnoticed as he slunk to one of the closest pews. Zexion opted instead for leaning against the wall just inside the door, eyes on the five people standing and gesturing passionately, putting them apart from the rest. Riku and Zack were facing off against Tifa, Kairi, and Namine. The three medics stood resolutely in the face of the outraged scorn being spat at them.

The coiling, putrid feeling of trepidation and alarm climbed steadily in the youngest Guardian to wrap around his throat like a barbed chain, but his voice was somehow unaffected when the dreaded question broke free, "What is going on here?"

Zack immediately snapped towards him and pointed back to the women, "Tifa is talking about taking Kairi and Namine with her to meet with the Clandestines!"

"Absolutely not."

Even though Zexion probably had as little to say in this as anyone else in the room, the other Guardians appeared appeased by his blank, quick protest. They turned back to the girls as if they had gained the upper hand with the third Guardian on their side, but the pretty faces hadn't flinched. Zexion's eyes swept the room quickly, taking in the sight of Cid, Vincent, and Angeal all on the same row with their arms crossed. In front of them sat Sora, who wasn't even trying to pull his Guardian back onto the wooden pew, and Aerith, who was chewing at her lip in a purely distressed manner. Tifa laid a comforting hand on the brunette's shoulder before shaking a few strands of onyx hair out of her face so that she could meet Zexion's eyes across the room.

"Guardian Ienzo, we know that it could be dangerous to take all the medics out of the city, but Kairi, Namine, and I all meeting the Clandestines together will solidify our trust and belief in them. Our powers are the type that they can tap into to read our sincerity. It's direly important that they understand our intentions and know that we're on their side. I don't know what's happened to fuel their actions, but we need to be a guiding, supporting force for them. Clandestines know nothing about war, and their Council are probably licking their wounds right now and feeling really damn stupid. Us medics will be able to give a feeling of peace to them."

"Taking away all our personal medics is too much of a risk," Zexion argued, voice rising with incredulity and arms tightening over his chest, "Sora's powers have been unpredictable and I still haven't a clue why. What are we to do if something happens to him and we don't have you there to control the situation? I have no idea how to help Demyx when it comes to his powers; it's my duty to make sure he's protected, and that means that I can't allow him to be left without a physician."

"We wouldn't let that happen," Namine protested softly, gesturing at three separate people amidst the silent crowd, "I've trained Hayner to an extent, and Pence and Olette are well enough to care for Aerith and Sora in our absence. Don't worry Zexion, Zack, Riku… your Angels will be okay."

Her smile was convincing, but Zexion was still unsure and wary. He just turned his face down at Zack and Riku's mirrored speculation as they turned to the three children who would be their Angels' stand-in medics. Hayner, Pence, and Olette were a triad of friends connected by their mysterious origins. They were all orphans from Twilight Town who connected with Sora when the Angel visited the town for a few weeks years ago, and ended up following him and Riku back to the Cathedral without his knowing. They quickly pledged themselves to Aerith, explaining that once they made what they called a 'true friend' they couldn't leave them. It was like a code of honor between them, and it had immediately centered on Sora. Maybe they had sensed the light and were drawn to it, or maybe they were just lonely parentless children who didn't really have a home to abandon for adventure in the first place, but they had joined the Church and had implanted themselves here in a way that few could. Shortly after they arrived, Wakka, Tidus, and Selphie came from Destiny Islands, claiming they couldn't sit by and watch the war rage on from the sidelines anymore. As soon as they were old enough they left their tranquil beaches to the forest-laden, hilly lands of the West. Then came Vincent, Angeal, Genesis, Cid, Yuffie, Barret, and Reeve; all Military soldiers who had turned and gathered in Hollow Bastion before crossing the desert and leaving their devotion to the Military behind. Following them were Aqua, Terra, and Eraqus, who came from a different country in the far reaches of the world and became excellent Knights with time. The war in the Kingdom was affecting not only itself but the entire planet, and they felt as if it was their duty to help set things right. It seemed like, for a short time period, groups of people came pouring in until Radiant Garden had grown and the Cathedral of Hearts had tripled in populace.

Zexion himself had worked with the Military during that time but kept his ties to the Church, only crossing the desert to join Demyx when he left Radiant Garden for an extended amount of time. In those days the blonde rarely saw anything of the outside world past the multi-colored barrier shielding the city, which ended up making Zexion guilty enough to abandon the Military just like so many other traitors to take a permanent place by the Angel's side. The only reason he worked for them to begin with was the man he'd worked under and the dilatory attempt at gathering any information that could assist the Church in its movements to end the war. In those few years of his Military employment Hayner, Pence, and Olette had devoted themselves to learning the powers of healing. A touchy thing to muddle with, especially when it was so hard to practice. Someone had to be injured for healing to be needed, but let one ounce of darkness or flawed energy enter their body and it would do more harm than good. It could kill a person, depending upon the extent or area of injury. As for wounds to the soul, well…

Riku and Zack were only less concerned than he because they didn't know as much about healing as Zexion.

He stared at Hayner, conveying his doubt in a frustrated, distrustful glare, but the dark blonde haired boy simply met his visible eye with iron determination. Somehow, a silent decision had been reached, and the meeting was apparently dissolving into speculative chatter among the separate groups as Zack and Riku had left the three females to talk with and analyze their new would-be medics. Demyx had the same idea in mind and had risen only to drop onto the pew beside Hayner. They were too far away for Zexion to hear, but he could identify the tone of jovial acceptance in Demyx's voice. It was the same tone the blonde used when he was attempting to cheer everyone up after one of their fellow disciples met their ends at the Military's hands.

That was Demyx; lighthearted and carefree on the outside, but an introspective and complicated mess on the inside. Zexion was honored with the moments Demyx's well-constructed façade failed, when the man turned to the only one who really understood him; his Guardian. Now, though, Zexion could not do anything. It would be later, when the blonde truly unraveled, that he would be of use, so the Guardian turned away from the united personages of the Church and began to make his way back to the library, where he could do some research that may or may not be just as useful as standing around observing his comrades.

However, he was cut off before he could make it even halfway down the corridor. One of his closest friends for years strode up to him in his perpetually unconcerned pace and stopped abruptly, his largely muscled body rising so high that Zexion had to tilt his head back to glimpse the serious face, successfully cutting into the pensive teenager's path.

"Yes, Lexaeus?"

"You have a phone call, Zexion. I routed it to the library, so you should hurry back. Line three."

"Thank you," the Guardian struggled not to appear perturbed as the man continued to stare down at him intently, "is that all?"

The auburn-haired giant seemed to hesitate for just a moment before placing a heavy hand on Zexion's shoulder, "You should get some rest, Ienzo. I know your research is important to you but you're only good to us if you're conscious and healthy. You may not act like it, but you're still too young to stress your body like you're prone to doing. When's the last time you ate something?"

Ignoring the probing question, to which his response would have doubtlessly displeased his friend, Zexion nodded, "I am grateful for the concern. You should get to the chapel, I am certain that Xaldin will want to speak with you about the latest advancements."

Lexaeus continued to stare a few moments, pointedly reading the information that presented itself on Zexion's fatigued features, but chose to let it go as he nodded and moved away with oddly silent steps despite his size. Steel-blue eyes watched his departure before the teenager hurried to the library at a half-sprint. He had never gotten a phone call at the chapel before. It could only be one person. When a quick sweep of his eyes affirmed that the room was empty except for the towering shelves that housed countless journals and texts he made his way to the table in the corner where the communications desk was set up. He perched on the end of the chair and let out a shaky sigh before picking up the simple plastic device and pressing the third button on the machine that was wired to the phone.

Placing the mouthpiece to his lips and hooking the twisted plastic behind his ear so that the earpiece was nestled firmly in place, he glanced once more around the room before letting his eyes wander over the few tomes that were opened up on the glacial wood of the desk. His fingers brushed across the chains of ink scrawled across the parchment, anchoring himself to some kind of physicality as he spoke.

"This is Zexion Ienzo speaking."

"_Zexion. It's so good to hear your voice_."

"Doctor Even, I am surprised that you called. Is there something you need?"

"_I can't check up on my old assistant without requiring something to prompt the call_?"

"Not you, Doctor. I gave you this number two years ago. Odd that you would contact me now of all times," Zexion cleared his throat indicatively, and the barest of smiles tilted his lips at the pleased, static-distorted chuckle.

"_The line is secure, Zexion, I assure you_."

"I will trust in your evaluation, then. Does this have something to do with the Clandestines' attack?"

"_No, not at all. I am curious about it, though_."

"We did not know what they were planning until it was too late. We had no part of it."

"_Ah, so I've gathered. I believe they thought they were going to be successful in their attempt; they wore masks to hide their identity. A sorry misjudgment for them, I suppose_."

"I heard that one of them was captured."

"_My, my. You hear quite a lot. I was just informed of that fact. I also hear that Cloud Strife is coming to visit me with a nasty case of influence. I wonder what he will let slip now that his heart has been opened for all to examine his true emotions_."

"I'm sure anything he will 'let slip' will be considered delirium, forced under influence."

"_So you say, so it is. Perhaps you'd have the time to come visit Strife and me while he's in hospice. And maybe bring along a few journals as well_."

Zexion rolled his eyes as relief showered down on him. He was beginning to really think that Vexen only called to see how he was doing and trade little tid-bits of information. It had begun to disturb the young Guardian as much as it made a warm brightness flow through his veins. His voice when he replied was dry and placid in contrast to the untamed myriad of emotions ricocheting around his chest, "Alright Doctor Even, tell me what you want."

"_What do you know about Fallen Angels_?"

The question made Zexion's brow wrinkle in thought as the hundreds of books he'd read in the past weeks flashed through his mind's eye. Picking a few out, he analyzed his memory, and just like that the words appeared as if he was staring down at the books that were strewn all over his work tables several feet away.

"Not much. I have a few journals and a single tome here about them, but all of it looks mostly like myths."

"_Bring them anyway. Is there anything I could help you with in return_?"

"Hm… do you have any texts on hand about elements, bases, and magik?"

"_All three in one? As in how they react with each other_?"

"Exactly."

"_Goodness, Zexion, what have you gotten yourself mixed up in now_?"

The concern potent in those words melted the puzzlement and trepidation that had iced over his heart and caused a warm smirk to fix itself onto his lips, "The usual. You know how things can be, Doctor."

A mournful groan that stuttered into a sigh just made Zexion's smirk morph into a grin, "_Why must you always go traipsing into trouble_?"

"It's in my nature. Why must you always stick your nose in places where you'll just find more questions?"

"_My desire for knowledge has always been my most destructive vanity, as you know. I'm afraid I've passed that on to you. It's my fault that you're probably halfway to your grave right now isn't it?"_

"Yes, it is," Zexion let his presently stoic tone take on an extremely rare, playful one, "you would have known sooner if you had called me before now."

"_But I didn't. But now I am. When can I expect you? Strife should be here by tomorrow evening_."

The teenager's sight shifted to the clock above the desk and he was surprised to see that it was almost five in the afternoon. He'd started to delve into deep research at noon the day before. Realizing this, his body began to make its needs known, and he grimaced at the dull ache in his stomach and the thick, stuffy exhaustion that filled his head.

"If I don't run into trouble in the desert I should be there the day after tomorrow. I need to pack and get some rest, so I'll head out tomorrow morning. Stall Cloud for me, and _find that text_. I know you; you'll wait until the last minute to go looking for it and realize you let a colleague borrow it. I want it the moment I step into the office."

_"… I may have let myself become a bit lax ever since you left. Marluxia isn't proving to be a useful assistant_."

Zexion scoffed loudly, ignoring the countering laugh on the other end of the line, "Marluxia _Lumaria_? The _herbalist_? _He's_ your assistant now?"

_"It seemed like a good idea at the time_," came the bitterly amused snort, "_he's good at mixing plants to make potions but not much else. Although, his flamboyance is entertaining as well._"

"Right. Okay, then. Just… make sure you get that text, please don't get distracted by that pink-haired _moron_ and forget. I'll see you in a few days."

"_Goodbye, Zexion. Glad I could talk to you, it's been so long. I remember when you were just a tiny child scampering after me through the halls. Why, you were so cute when you-_

Zexion pressed the button to cut the line quickly, face practically on fire as he tore the headpiece off of him and smacked it down on the desk. Why the hell did the man always tease him when he attempted to stay professional. It was embarrassing, really. Zexion could barely remember when he first left Radiant Garden to become Vexen's student; it seemed so long ago. Zack used to scold him about doing dangerous things at such a young age, and had warned him countless times to not tell anyone where he went every few weeks. _Tell them your family lives on the edge of the desert or something, but don't you dare tell them you live in the West_. But Zack always drove him back and forth across the desert, a half-day's drive in a fast vehicle, even if he didn't agree with what the child was doing.

When Zexion reached his teenage years and officially became Vexen's assistant he was crossing the desert less and less. First it had been every few weeks, then once a month, then once every few months, until he stayed in the East for an entire year and a half without contacting Demyx or Zack. When Zack stormed into the North Branch Headquarters one day with a false identity cooked up by Vincent… that was the breaking point of Zexion's Military career. The respected Knight and eldest Guardian had been _pissed_. While Zexion was ignorant to what was going on within the Church, Demyx had been seriously hurt when he went off on his own to visit the Cathedral of Nature. A group of soldiers had caught him and tortured him viciously, and by the time Genesis and Angeal found them, Demyx was on the brink of death.

Zexion returned home with a furious Zack without looking back once, only scribbling a quick number down for Vexen with a small note explaining that he was leaving the Military. Or so that's what Zack and the rest of the Church thought. In truth, Zexion had written a lengthy letter explaining his ties to the Church and what had really happened, even revealing that he was a Guardian. Over the years he had came to trust Vexen, and love and respect him as if he had take the place of Zexion's dead father. He wrote as much in the letter, and carefully placed it into the latest text of riddles the two of them had been working on. Then he left, unwilling to look back, lest he choose Vexen over Demyx.

But a few months later, a messenger from Twilight Town came to Zexion with a letter from Vexen. It proclaimed the man's absolute faith and care for him, and that he understood completely. Even though everyone thought Doctor Vexen Even was an insane, corrupt doctor, it was just a mask he wore to shut out the darkness of the Military and at the same time appease Xemnas. Vexen didn't care for the Military much at all. Over time, he'd learned to care about only his patients, his eternal lust for knowledge, and, according to his letter, Zexion Ienzo. The care for Zexion had apparently caused him to take further interest in the major events of the war, as they directly affected his pupil. The single letter they had mailed each other had said so much that they could never say face to face, and so when talking to Vexen for the first time in years he had invariably drifted back into the role of pupil, attempting to force the cordial words out of his mind. Emotions couldn't lie, however, and his heart both thrilled and ached at the thought of seeing his old mentor again. There was no more regret though. He had felt it strong and deep the day he'd been practically dragged out the North Branch doors by Zack, immediately labeled a traitor to the Military and a terrible Guardian to the Church, but now there were just the faintest traces of remorse.

Zexion would live with the guilt of leaving Vexen's side for a long time, but he would live with the guilt of what happened to Demyx forever. When Zexion saw him after over a year and a half of no-contact, he realized just how bad he had screwed up. Demyx looked dead, laying in one of the chapel's ivory beds with broken legs, a scarred body, and broken mind, and was unconscious for days. After he woke up to find Zexion at his bedside, where the Guardian had refused to budge as soon as he caught a glimpse of his Angel, he had immediately forgiven the younger teenager, but Zexion wouldn't let the words get any farther than his ears. It was weeks later that Demyx finally began to smile or even _start_ to look healthy. It would be months before the Angel was able to walk again.

The years Zexion worked under Vexen had been full of pleasant moments and lessons he would not have learned anywhere else, but being by Demyx's side had become a priority as soon as Zexion saw just how much the Military could hurt him.

Reflecting back on the past two years he's been with the Church full-time, though, he realized what he had missed, how he had failed, and what he would do to never fail again. And most of it had to do with strange, 'my-past-isn't-important-enough-to-comment-on', Riku.

Riku had come out of nowhere, when Zexion was still a student to Vexen, appearing out of the blue one of the days he came home after a few weeks. Aerith had introduced the ten year old Zexion to the newly appointed teenage Guardian the moment the youngest Guardian walked through the doors. Still, it had taken a long while for the steel-haired boy to comprehend the situation. He had been at Demyx's side his entire life, and Zack by Aerith's. It had always seemed strange that Sora didn't have a Guardian, and Demyx even isolated the toddler a little bit because of that, but Zexion hadn't ever really thought much about it. When Riku appeared, though, it was all he could think about on his visits to the West.

Did Sora have a Guardian somewhere, still, who had somehow been placed far away from him? Did his real Guardian die at birth or have parents who weren't part of the Church? Or did Sora just not have a Guardian at all before Riku?

Zexion had been told that the Gods had approved of the teenager with fierce aquamarine eyes, but he was still hesitant to give his own approval. It wasn't until two years ago when Demyx had been so badly injured that he finally accepted Riku. Those months sitting by the blonde Angel's side or wandering around the chapel like an apparition gave him the opportunity to observe Riku, and how the silverette acted around Sora.

He was a man now, and Sora was a teenager, but their personalities were pretty much the same as they had been years ago. Riku was somber, but the little glimmer in his eye and nearly indiscernible upward quirk of his lips hadn't changed a bit. Sora was still bright and cheery, in a different way than Demyx, but a maturity had seeped into his spoken thoughts and sometimes shadowed his eyes as he thought deeply.

They were essentially the same as they had been… so how had they changed so much?

Zexion had watched them intently, attempting to figure out just what had changed, but for a long time there was only a _knowing_ that something was different. Finally, when Demyx was able to limp around the Cathedral enough to join Zexion in the chapel, where the Guardian's new routine caused him to sit and contemplate and observe for hours, it came to him as if it had been dropped straight from the ceiling and into his head.

Riku and Sora had been placing candles around the alter, readying it for anyone who would come by for evening prayers, when Zexion's eyes caught on the way Riku was moving. It was as if he was stuck in an invisible orbit of Sora; whenever the brunette moved more than ten feet away Riku followed him subconsciously, probably unknowingly shifting his tasks as he did so. Sora crossed behind the altar from the left side to the right side to set candles on each branch of a ten-foot tall candelabra, and Riku followed, laying down a broom and scooping up a feather duster to sweep across the altar as he passed. His eyes weren't even on Sora; they were on each new object he was cleaning or setting up. And yet he stayed within a leap of the boy at all times. Even when Sora went to wipe down the pews, Riku joined him. Except instead of moving to the opposite side of the chapel so that he could meet the Angel in the middle (as was the logical way of doing things), Riku merely moved to the row right beside the one that the brunette was working on.

Zexion had glanced at Demyx, wondering if he had noticed, but the blonde had been staring into space, a fixed grimace of pain etched across his usually smiling face. The Guardian had been about to reach out and take the man's hand, in an ineffective attempt at soothing, when he realized that he already had, minutes ago. His fingers were twined thoughtlessly with the Angel's, and he had been as unconscious as Demyx apparently was to both the movement and the feel of fevered skin against his.

He hadn't spoken after that; he was content with the warmth and comfort he knew the contact was giving to Demyx, so he stayed silent. Though he did look up once more and met Riku's eyes. The silverette had stopped in his chores long enough to observe Zexion's quiet epiphany, and caught the boy's eyes when he looked up. A small, knowing smile crossed Riku's face before he went on with his task, breaking the eye-contact.

It was that moment that Zexion knew that Riku had realized these oddities long before he did. It was that moment that he accepted Riku whole-heartedly as a fellow disciple and possible friend. It was that moment that Zexion realized that even though Riku wasn't Sora's true Guardian, he was more of a Guardian than Zexion could ever be.

**AN: That's it for chapter seven, please review and tell me how I'm doing!  
Next chapter- Interlude. Sora and Riku. **


	8. Interlude Part One

**AN: My mouth hurts like hell, Vicodin is making me bubbly and dizzy, but I'm posting the next chapter anyway. Ahead of this I only have two chapters completed so updates are going to be slowing down. Enjoy chapter 8! **

INTERLUDE PART ONE: Guardian-Angel

_Sora had known things other people didn't even when he couldn't use the words to voice them. He knew that Zack, the man who came and went and always had a smile and gift when he visited, had the noblest heart a person could have, but would die young. He knew that Aerith, the woman he then thought was his mother, a woman full of light and intelligence of ages, would die before Zack did. This seemed important, since he somehow knew that Aerith had been alive long past what the Gods deemed appropriate for human life. He knew that his playmate Demyx and Demyx's often-absent Guardian would die even younger still. The only thing he didn't seem to know was when he himself would die. But that was okay, because he was only two and a half, and the voices of light told him he didn't have to worry about that for a while longer._

_ When he met Riku seven years later, he still knew things that others didn't, but had learned how. The Gods spoke to him; a little fact that Aerith wanted to keep hush-hush, because who knows what bad men would do if they knew he could hear the voices of light from far above. The Gods wouldn't tell him when Riku was going to die, just the same way they wouldn't tell him when he was going to die. They did tell him that Riku's heart was full of darkness, but that the center was a perfect, blinding light. They told him that Riku needed him, and that he needed Riku. So, despite the boy being a moody, serious teenager, Sora put his all into giving Riku all the love and care he needed for the darkness to go away._

_ After weeks of trying so hard, the Gods finally told him that Riku's darkness would never go away. Things had happened in the somber teenager's past that would leave scars for lifetimes over. The Gods would tell him no more about Riku. So Sora decided he would have to try and know things on his own for once. It took a long time, and Riku didn't help with the way he stood to the side and only put a little energy into the games Sora forced him to play, but the Angel finally began to get through. _

_ When he was thirteen and Riku had just turned nineteen (or so he claimed, he wouldn't tell anyone his birthday, the stubborn brute), Sora was allowed to go to Twilight Town for the second time in his life. The first time two years back a few kids followed him home so Zack was afraid to let him go again. Zack said dedicated disciples were one thing, and lost little puppies were another. But Riku managed to convince the kindhearted Knight to let them go. Besides, Riku was an adult and Sora was a teenager. The brunette figured they were now mature enough to go places without Zack's and his friend's supervision. Especially since Riku had been alone a lot even when he was a kid still. _

_ Anyway, he and Riku had taken a seven-miller cycle that Cloud had been working on for forever and travelled along the stark line of separation between the sands of the desert and the grass of the West that led into the immense dark forests. They would only cross into the desert when they needed to get onto the road leading into the small city. Riku said it was dangerous otherwise. They got into town okay but got a room in an inn as soon as they arrived. Riku said it was better safe than sorry. So they had to sleep through the night._

_ Safely wrapped in Riku's arms like always, Sora waited until the man was sound asleep before carefully turning slightly so that he could look out the window beyond the Guardian's shoulder. How did the man expect Sora to sleep when there was a whole city of flashy lights and excitement beyond? Twilight Town prided itself on having the longest sunsets in the country; an orange-red color tinted the sky with just a fraction of the sun peaking over the ocean for hours before the purple and navy darkness of night took over. Night seemed to be the shortest, only about five hours of true darkness, and the rest of the day was pale blue and orange. Sora always imagined himself walking in a living watercolor painting when he traversed the streets and markets, it was just that stupendous. The people were great, too. There were all sorts of people, variation that you didn't see in the West or East. They were of different races, different personalities, and different priorities. It was almost like stepping from a chaotic combat zone into a peaceful sanctuary. There was little mention of the war here and most of these people only cared about their families and neighbors. It was a concept that Sora drank up like oxygen to a drowning man._

_ Riku obviously didn't understand how Sora saw the world; how the life outside the window called- no, _screamed-_ to him, but he couldn't blame him. Sora didn't think many people of these times saw the world like him; in light and love and hope. There was the darkness, of course. He could see it every time he looked at his Guardian. But for there to be light there must be the dark, something Riku didn't say. That was something Sora always said to Riku. Maybe the words were passed down from the Gods when he was unsuspecting, but Sora claimed the words as a sort of mantra. Even if the war did end, there would still be equal amounts of light and dark. This knowledge kept him from sinking too far into the obsession that people like Zack, Genesis, and Angeal had fallen into concerning the war. He would always try to remain a bystander until the time came that it was now-or-never for him. He would let the adults take care of the rest. Which was why he had begged his Guardian to take him out of that Cathedral for just a week or two, as a break from the war. Riku had been undecided until Aerith responded positively to the idea, and then he was caught. Hook, line, and sinker._

_ So of course he would try and be a spoilsport when they got here. Who cares if it was dark? Twilight Town was full of lights that glowed gold and silver and purple, brightening every corner of every street and every single place between._

_ After a couple of hours of restlessness, Sora decided he would only just go and find that clocktower he'd glimpsed the other time he came here. He would climb to the top, look out over the city at night and maybe the ocean, and then he would climb right back down and return before Riku had even stirred._

_ Determined, he cautiously extricated himself from Riku, placing a pillow where his body once was, and smiled for a moment at the image of the strong silverette hugging the pillow lightly before pulling on his shoes and jacket. After hundreds of games of hide-and-go-seek he knew how to creep silently across even the creakiest floorboards, so he was out of the room in seconds and Riku hadn't even fluttered an eyelash._

_ The rest of the inn was dead-silent, and Sora wondered for a moment if they were the only people residing there, until a woman clicked down the blue carpeted floors in sharp heels, her shimmering wheat-blonde hair ghostly against the pale yellow walls and even paler gray ceiling. She wore a smart black suit unlike any he had seen a woman wear before with onyx heels. Her whole aura cried 'professional', and even her quick hazel eyes locked onto him when they were still many feet away, when he had been sure he wasn't making a sound._

_ When he passed her he smiled brightly and gave a cheery wave, and she responded with a shadow of a smile and a slight nod in return. So at least she wasn't an evil witch of a business lady. That's what Sora thought before she reached the room she was apparently staying in. He was still within earshot and turned halfway around with raised brows when she slammed the door open, her calm collectedness from before dissipating into seething anger._

_ "Rude, I can't find Reno anywhere. Call Tseng, NOW!"_

_ The muffled voice of a man drifted out into the hallway, "He's probably just getting drunk somewhere. Calm down, Elena."_

_ "That's what I'm worried about. An idiot like him can't be trusted when he's drunk. We're here on business, not holiday! Think of the women that horrid dog is probably scamming into bed right now!"_

_ "Jealous?"_

_ There was a moment of silence, and Sora whipped around when a loud crash and grunt echoed through the halls. Great. At this rate they were going to wake up Riku. He had begun walking again when the click of the door closing quietly sounded, as if the woman- Elena, he reminded himself- had just realized how disruptive she was being. The fast clack of heels had him slowing his pace slightly, recognizing the sound of someone attempting to catch up._

_ "Excuse me, I'm sorry about the disturbance."_

_ "It's fine," Sora grinned easily, glancing at her as she made it to his side and slowed to match his steps, "I've heard it all before. A bit surprised to hear it at midnight in an inn, but I guess trouble can go anywhere, right?"_

_ She nodded, smiling a bit again as they reached the front room. When he bypassed the little café that was open every hour and headed to the doors with her, the woman frowned faintly._

_ "Excuse me…" she started as they stepped out onto the pavement of the small street._

_ "My name's Sora."_

_ "Elena. Do you mind if I ask where you are going?"_

_ "Oh," he smiled sheepishly as she began to follow him, feeling a little anxious at her darting eyes, "I'm just wandering around. I couldn't sleep."_

_ "How old are you…?"_

_ "Thirteen," he met her wandering eyes with a puzzled look, "why?"_

_The concern marring her pretty features grew even more, "That's a little young to be wandering the streets at night, are your parents…?"_

_ "You haven't been to Twilight Town before, have you? I'm here with an older friend. He doesn't like me being alone so I try to catch as much time to myself as possible. I remember seeing a clocktower the last time I was here, so I'm going to try to find it."_

_ Proving his assumption wrong, Elena turned and pointed the opposite direction, making him stop as well in puzzlement, "Well, the clocktower is in that direction, just beyond the hill with all those buildings. Why don't we walk together? I'm going that way anyway."_

_ Sora smiled gratefully and nodded, "Okay! You heading towards downtown?"_

_ "Yeah," she seemed momentarily embarrassed, "my coworker doesn't seem to understand the concept of not drinking while working."_

_ "What kind of work brings you to Twilight Town?"_

_ "We work with an architecture company in the East. Why are you and your friend here?"_

_ "We just thought a little get-away would be good for us. Well, I thought it would be good for him, really. He didn't want to come at all."_

_ "I see. That's too bad, this is a beautiful little city. If one isn't careful they can find themselves becoming lost in the serenity."_

_ "That's what I'm hoping for!" the cheery tone in his voice made Elena smile yet again, a happening that he didn't think occurred often enough._

_ "Where are you from?"_

_ Zack's continual excuse for all of them echoed through his mind and were out his lips before he even had time to think about it, "My friend and I live with a group of people on the edge of the desert in the East. We're a mismatched bunch but we're as family as family can be."_

_ "Hm," she hummed musingly, her face reflecting the calculative thoughts behind her cool eyes, "Is that more toward the North or South Branch?"_

_ "More like in the middle," Sora answered, confidence wavering at her questioning, "we're just a few hundred miles from Hollow Bastion."_

_ "Really. That puts you quite close to the ruins of the West Branch Headquarters, doesn't it?"_

_ "Uh, yeah, it does. I've never been there myself, though. Are you guys planning on rebuilding it? You said you were an architect, right?"_

_ Her smile was edged with some mysterious form of amusement and a melodic chuckle left her bow-shaped lips, "Actually we're more the type of architects that tear structures down while taking special care not to damage surrounding buildings and the foundation. It takes a specialized group and years of training to accomplish what we do. We're just taking a look at the tunnels that run underground here. There are a few faults so we're blocking three or four tunnels off- oh, there's Reno," she gave him a more genuine smirk as she began to head towards a stumbling redhead on the other side of the road, flicking a petite hand in a wave, "goodbye, Sora, it was a pleasure to meet you. I guess I'll see you around the inn the next couple of days."_

_ "It was great to meet you too, Elena, and I'm looking forward to it! You can meet Riku and I can meet your friends when they're both sober!"_

_ She let out a laugh that sounded more like a tuneful snort as she danced backwards another fraction of a second before pivoting on her heel to stride towards the slim young man, a dangerous bristling beginning to run up her slender limbs as she drew nearer to him. Sora smiled softly at the bizarre architects and looked up along the lamp-lit road he was walking on. The train station was just up ahead, the clocktower rising above it like a lighthouse. _

_ As he got closer, he could see a figure lounging at the top and squinted his eyes through the darkness when he saw a flash of opaque silver flutter in the moonlight. A shadowy hand rose to wave at him languidly where he stood far below, and Sora grinned and rolled his eyes. Riku._

Sora woke abruptly, breath catching in his chest as the vivid reliving of three years ago played back in his mind. He jerked back the sheets and shoved Riku's arms away as he sat up hurriedly, shouting at the man to get up. The silverette snapped his eyes open, apparently only registering Sora's desperation since darkness instantly rose like a tide to swirl over his skin.

"What, Sora! What is it?"

"The tunnel!" Sora yelled with a feral grin, grabbing Riku's arms and bouncing on the bed excitedly before leaping off and going to search for one of his usual white collared, button-up shirts to wear under the trademark coat of the Church.

"What?" Riku's voice snapped, annoyed and pissed at the unwelcome interruption of his rest, even though he was already climbing out of bed with exasperated, sluggish movements. He made a point to tear the rubber band out of his hair in a sharp motion that had to be painful, but joined Sora in the closet without so much as a wince.

"The tunnel," the Angel gestured erratically as he pulled sleeves over his bare, tanned skin, "you know, that one underground tunnel we found when we were exploring Twilight Town. It led straight from the edge of the city to the ocean, remember? It skirted around the waterfront and even had its own little hidden cove with a dock. It would be perfect for the girls to get out through."

The rapidly spinning wheels in Riku's head were cranking fast judging by the way his aquamarine eyes were glimmering and unfocused as he searched blindly for his own clothes. But they were sharp and clear when he met Sora's light cobalt ones.

"Sora… you stupid genius, that might just work."

**AN: Shorter than the others, I know, but I needed to rewind and show a bit of Sora's point of view and this was the only eloquent way to do it I think. What did you think?**

**Next Chapter- Interlude Part Two. Roxas and Axel. Lots of Roxas whumpage, sorry. I need him tortured to create that cynical sociopathic personality he has going on. And really, what's a story without a little angst?  
Thank you for reading! :)**


	9. Interlude Part Two

**AN: Be prepared for bad language, abuse of a little Roxas, and mild Akuroku moments. ;)**

INTERLUDE PART TWO: The Young and the Ruthless

_When Roxas was thirteen years old, he almost died. _

_A year after he had been dragged to the Military's North Branch by the disproving, impatient man who was his father, he was delving full-force into his new career in spite of his young age. It was just another barrier he had to work through to gain the respect of the men he had been dropped among. Axel Sinclair had helped somewhat, with his positive, accepting, caring actions towards him, but Roxas would not allow himself to be blind to what the other men were saying. How could he, when his father had taught him to be the ever silent observer? _

_Those men… those scientists and wannabe soldiers… spoke of him as if he were either a test subject or an insignificant bug, despite the power he possessed. They barely cared to look in his direction when they passed him in an empty hallway, they didn't speak to him unless it was to issue orders, and they didn't even acknowledge him when they talked with Axel. At those times, Roxas had learned to slip away silently. Axel always came and found him once he realized he'd gone, but it didn't change the fact that for a few minutes the only person who cared for Roxas forgot all about him._

_Not that it mattered, Roxas had to continually remind himself; he did better on his own anyway, working from the shadows and without the burden of any other's unpredictability. And Axel, although the man was kind to him, was a heavy burden that he bore with wordless reception. He was just too… opinionated. The man could talk about anything and everything for hours upon hours. It had gotten to the extent that Roxas actually made a point of avoiding him some days._

_It was one of those days, just weeks before his fourteenth birthday, when a group of the younger soldiers, all in their late teens and early twenties, attacked him. He had been wandering through the training grounds and armory rooms, which were across the complex from the barracks where Axel was sure to find him with rumors about Turks or ogling over the heroic soldiers that were rising in the South Branch at the ready. He had walked among the racks of gleaming-edged swords and gunblades, examining each one for flaws and picking out the few that were dull or less than up to par to grind to smoothness or fix up. _

_While he was analyzing the guns, which he had much less experience with, making it difficult to find the tiny faults he could identify in a blade easily, the group of experienced soldiers strode in as one. There were five of them, dressed in the blue grunt uniforms and toting guns and blades depending on the person. The leader was a man Roxas recognized immediately by his contrasting red and black uniform, the sea blue eyes and the messy blonde hair cropped Military-style. Luxord was a normally laid-back type of man who had a love for cards and a hatred for children. With Roxas the hard feelings were even worse since the teenager was already rising in the Military ranks. It wouldn't be long before Roxas was on the man's level, and that made Luxord angry. The older man had always been vocal about his emotions, too._

_But he had never been physical with Roxas, and was almost companionable on the occasions they were required to speak. He gave a short nod to the fresh teenager on his way in before moving to the corner of the room where the sharp-edged staffs were. The superior soldier had his own personal arsenal of odd, steel-edged cards that he threw like daggers, and which were just as deadly, but he still went to the armory often to inspect the newer models of weapons. The rest of the men spread around the large room, their chatter filling the previous peace with a comfortable buzz. Roxas returned the nod to Luxord and turned back to his work, dragging the smooth grindstone over the blades in a therapeutic rhythm._

_Minutes passed, and the warm, mindless chatter disappeared suddenly. Navy eyes rose to the soldiers that were now standing before him with crossed arms and sneering smirks. He took in the fact that Luxord had just left as he realized that the men were only a few feet away from him now. Strangely, he didn't feel fear, he only looked back down at the sword he had been sharpening._

_Just as he was beginning to push the stone back over the sleek blade, both instruments were snatched from his hands and the other weapons were kicked away, the shriek of metal scraping across the dusty linoleum breaking the temporary silence._

_"Look at this stupid fuck," one of the younger boys, Vanitas, snarled with a ruthless grin, "a mindless, dumb puppet. How he ever managed to get this far I'll never know. Oh wait, I do know. His obnoxious asshole of a father has connections, am I right?"_

_At Roxas's blank stare, Vanitas frowned, crouching down in front of the younger teenager._

_"Yo, Axors. I asked you a question. Did your daddy pay your way in?"_

_Roxas still didn't respond, it wasn't because he was being dumb or stubborn, his voice just wouldn't move past his lips. It was like the emotions that had sunk into the cold hollowness in his chest; as impossible to reach as flying was. Vicious molten gold eyes flared when the blonde didn't so much as flinch from his stare and before he knew it a hand was twisting into Roxas's unruly spikes and wrenching his head back as Vanitas stood._

_"I'm talking to you, grunt!"_

_"I'm the same rank as you, Atisvan." _

_Roxas didn't know why he had spoken the quiet, solid words, but he didn't regret them even as the grip on his hair tightened, the jerk making his neck crack like lightning and sending fiery pain down his nerves in the same manner. In an unspoken command, two boys grabbed either of his arms and pulled him up from the ground where he had been sitting cross-legged to slam him against the wall. Sharp aches of pain thrummed through his skin down to the bone, but he ignored it, his mind already beginning to shut off to the abuse._

_He didn't notice Vanitas releasing him to go and pick up one of the many swords that were prepared for use. He didn't notice one of the lackeys crossing the room to lock the door. He only jolted back to reality when the cool kiss of steel met his cheek lightly to trail down, pressing harder and harder and finally drawing blood on his neck. That didn't stop the older teenager though, he just dug the razor-sharp point deeper into Roxas's flesh, as if the sight of blood fueled him like some kind of sadist._

_And then the black haired soldier was slashing at Roxas's uniform, shredding the material and making scarlet bloom and soak into the ragged edges of cloth. The blonde gritted his teeth, muffling the cries of pain that threatened to break free and clenching his eyes shut in an effort to gain some type of control over the situation. He may not be able to fight four stronger soldiers but he was a master at controlling his body._

_As the blade cutting into his skin went deeper and deeper, Roxas's mind was slowly slipping from reality once more. That is, until a shock froze up his body, stemming from somewhere in his abdomen. He had never been stabbed before, so the sensation was more shock than agony. Eyes glazing over, he could barely feel when the soldiers dropped him to the ground and uncertain whispers began to drift around. Vanitas's cruel voice snapped at the lowered ones._

_A grunt slipped from Roxas's lips when a boot connected with his side with all the solidity of a rock. Others began to rain down on him, and the solid, thrumming assault was harder to block out than the icy caress of a metallic blade. During a pause, a cough wracked his body and even more blood spattered the gritty floor and trailed across his cheek. The pain had gone beyond the physical; it echoed across every nerve and in every inch of skin, and went deeper than he thought possible. His fingertips scratched across the red, slippery floor, but couldn't find the purchase that his palms needed to push himself back up. A red haze was settling over his mind and eyes, covering everything in a shimmery sheen of onyx and scarlet, making his movements confused and clumsy._

_The soldiers hesitated, and Roxas faintly recognized the sound of someone beating on the door, and a familiar voice was shouting from the other side. There was a warning, and a countdown that went ignored, before a breeze of heat and the pop and flare of fire rushed through the room._

_A minute or so passed of pained shouts, and then a pair of gentle hands were pushing him onto his back carefully._

_"Oh, shit."_

_Roxas's eyes focused on the flash of cherry red above his head and he blinked at Axel's panicked, poison-tinted eyes. They were looking him over as those cautious hands hovered above his battered and sliced skin, as if the young man was afraid to touch him._

_"Oh shit," Axel repeated breathlessly, twisting his kneeling body to shout towards the doorway, "get Vexen, now!"_

_"What the hell happened?"_

_"Larxene, I am not joking, get him NOW!"_

_Tittering footsteps sprinted away, and Axel directed his attention back to him, "Roxas, can you hear me?"_

_The blonde wanted to respond, but couldn't find the strength to through the thick fog suspended around him._

_"Okay, okay…" Axel was stuttering now, his hands shaking as they took Roxas's, turning one over to check the pulse on his wrist. Roxas wanted to tell him that he was alright, but no matter how hard he tried the only thing that rose in his throat was blood or pants, "oh shit. Roxas, stay with me man. Squeeze my hand if you understand."_

_Roxas could comply with that much just barely, but the redhead's heady sigh of relief was worth the tremendous effort._

_"Good, that's great, kid. Just stay with me, okay? Just hold on, help's coming."_

_"Vanitas?" Roxas half-panted, half-choked._

_"Don't worry about that."_

_Navy eyes faded again and began to drift shut._

_"Oh shit. No, no, no. Roxas, you gotta stay awake, you hear me? Tell me... uh… your parents' names."_

_"Lazarus."_

_"Yeah, that's your dad, what's your mom's name?"_

_"Don't have one. Dad never… told me." Roxas coughed violently, a spray of blood leaving his lips._

_"Oh shit! Keep talking, Rox. I know it hurts, kid, but you have to keep talking."_

_"Why do you always curse, Axel?"_

_"I dunno, Rox, I'm just a wretched bastard, I guess. Why are you such an introspective dumbass?"_

_"My dad… told me that people like you… sharing your weaknesses through talk…"_

_"Your dad doesn't sound like a great guy."_

_"He tries to be good… he just doesn't know how."_

_Many sets of feet stomped back down the hall and Axel smoothed a calloused, burned palm over Roxas's prone hand._

_"You're going to be fine, Roxas. I'm going to be right beside you, I swear."_

_Roxas wanted to ask what he meant by that; did Axel mean he was going to be beside him for the time being, throughout the panic of the next few hours, or for as long as he could?_

_But, he thought to himself as unconsciousness began to strike its claws into him and drag him down, all that didn't really matter. All that mattered was the pain was fleeing with his awareness, and the last thing he felt was the warm comfort of fingers twining with his as multiple pairs of hands lifted him from the ground._

Roxas stared into his reflection, tracing every scar with his eyes, a hand pressing to the spot just below his rib cage where he'd felt the most intense pain of his life. If Axel hadn't heard the screams he hadn't even realized he'd uttered, he would probably be dead. Three years ago, he might not have even cared, but now he had too much to lose. It had taken a few months for him to heal completely, and immediately after he began to see Saix, their elites' psychologist, on a weekly basis. With Saix and Axel's help he began to see all the things there were to live for.

Now, looking at these scars, it seemed so much longer ago than just a few years. He had grown so much stronger since then. He and Luxord were almost close friends now. Unfortunately, Vanitas and his friends didn't leave the armory alive that day; the moment Axel understood what was going on after melting down the metal door with his power, Vanitas and his lackeys were nothing but ashes and charred bones.

The rash action had earned a firm reprimand and temporary demotion, which was quickly thrown away when the knowledge of the extent of Axel's power and Roxas's injuries came to light. Vexen was adamant that there would be no punishment and used his position as one of Xemnas's most trusted underling to their advantage. Now, Roxas was still pouring his all into his career, but in a more healthy way. He worked hard to gain respect, money, and friendship when he could find it. He couldn't imagine any way to live his life other than to just live it.

His fingertips were cool against the silvery scars, and he smiled softly at the thought that Axel had indeed stayed with him through the entire healing process and beyond. Idiotic chatter had become idle, comforting words meant only to relax and fill empty space with affection.

A knock came on the bathroom door, followed by yawned words, "Roxas, you in there?"

"Yeah, Axel. I'll be out in a second."

"Hurry it up, if I'm not in a shower within five minutes I'm going to lose my mind. Just talking to my brother…"

The dramatic, choking noise made Roxas roll his eyes and grin softly, turning away from the mirror and throwing the door open. Axel leaned against the frame with raised brows and crossed arms, smiling crookedly.

"You know, Rox, we could take a shower together, I think you missed a huge spot right here," the man tapped Roxas's naked chest, which was spotless of course, "just thinking of all the infections you could get if you don't clean well."

"Shut up Axel. It's more likely that I'd get an infection and die just from seeing you naked."

The teenager shoved his shoulder as he passed, ignoring the snarky snickering behind him. He was climbing into his bed, across from Axel's in their shared room for elites, when the redhead finally turned away from him and entered the bathroom.

"Suit yourself!" the man sang, shutting the door and proceeding to sing off-key and loudly before the water had even been turned on.

Roxas groaned and rolled over, burying his head in the soft downy pillows, but Axel's voice could penetrate the strongest of steels, as had already been proven three years ago. The awful words of sap spread around the room and Roxas closed his eyes tightly, rolling them again behind closed lids.

The normalcy of this routine had him wondering about the strangeness of the past month. It's like something was changing, some sort of progression that was hovering just at the edge of his peripheral, close enough to feel but too transparent to comprehend. And he couldn't help but think it had something to do with that Angel and Guardian. It was almost foreboding, as if the life he had been leading was about to change. As if it was about to become something more than just living. It was a worrying thought that held his mind for the next few minutes. Axel's voice began to break its way back into his thoughts, almost comforting in its familiarity. He let the pillow fall away from his ears and stretched into a more comfortable position on his side, cradling his cheek with one palm as he listened to the off-key note that was now turning into a light-hearted yowling, scowling to himself at the horrid lyrics.

But when he finally drifted to sleep, a mild smile curved his lips. He didn't hear when Axel came back into the room, and didn't feel when a hand ruffled through his feathery hair, or when lips brushed his forehead tenderly.

"Good night, Rox."

**AN: Next chapter- Vincent Valentine and Demyx. Hell yeah. :D**

**Thank you for reading, review and give me your thoughts, lest I abandon this story. Only one reviewer makes me think this whole story is a waste of time- no offense Define Anonymity, I'm extremely grateful for the continued support- so yeah. I'm about to just delete this and crawl under a rock for the next four years. I mean, does my writing really suck that bad? :'(**

**Sorry. I don't have that big of an ego but I honestly thought I was better than this. Anyway, moving on, I'll probably be posting chapter 10 next week sometime, and that's how future chapters are going to be. Once a week, unless I'm motivated enough to update sooner. Ciao!**


	10. Between War and Paradise

**AN: Because I don't count the Interludes as chapters, we are now at chapter eight! Earlier than I thought I would post it, but what the hell, right? Sorry about that angst-fest last chapter. I just get so discouraged sometimes. Anyway,**

**Define Anonymity- Yeah, it would be completely unfair of me to take this down when you've been with it since the beginning, sorry for freaking you out. The begging freaked me out a little bit but at least it shocked me into realizing how much you cared. :)**

**Cherucha- Oh my... thanks for the encouragement, and sorry but I am most definitely not putting Mickey, Donald, and Goofy in here. xD I love Disney like a second cousin twice removed, but those three get on my nerves so bad... and putting them in here would make the entire story a great big comedy. It's supposed to have some measure of seriousness and symbolic meaning and I would completely trash that image if those three came into the picture. But thank you for reviewing nevertheless.**

**StarShinobi- :0 Thank you so much for the praise! xD And I know they don't review as much anymore. It's disappointing to me, really. Every story I read, no matter how good or bad, I always review to give them constructive criticism or to just tell them how great they did. I'm just remembering three years ago when even my most horrible writing got at least twenty reviews. You'd be the first person to comment on my 'style' and it makes me really bubbly inside. :) It's taken me years to reach this point in writing, and way too many advanced writing classes to get my grammar as close to perfect as it can be. Anyway, the main inspiration for this story actually came from a KH fanfiction on here. It's probably THE BEST fanfiction that I've ever read and the themes between mine and hers are a little bit similar, so you might want to check out hers. It's called '6,581 Miles to Luma' and is by CaseyV. Now SHE is a writer that everyone should look up to. Anyway, thank you so much for the review, I'm glad you like this story that much. Plot bunnies like these only hop around so many times a year, so I'm super happy I'm not wasting my time on this. :)**

**On to the story!**

CHAPTER EIGHT: Between War and Paradise

When they noticed him, most people looked at Vincent with curious but wary eyes, as if they knew exactly what he was by the general look about him. But as it was his presence usually went unnoticed by many, even when he was standing not five feet from the person. His Clandestine mother gave him many abilities that passed through blood, as well as the dark-black hair and reddish eyes, so it was no wonder that he grew to become one of the best Turks in Military history. Just growing up as a half-Clandestine child in the streets of Hollow Bastion- after his parents were murdered when he was seven- taught him how to go unnoticed and how to melt into the shadows. When he was just a child he could manipulate even the coldest, most calculative of men. He could survive for a week with no sustenance at all, thanks again to his Clandestine blood, and had perfected the arts of thievery and conning by the time he was fourteen.

He joined the Turks when his one true love appeared as a scientist for the Military's North Branch. His skills went beyond those required, and Turks travelled between the branches constantly, so it was only logical that he joined to become closer to the woman he loved. Tseng even assigned him to the North Branch, knowing his affections towards Lucrecia. She was a beautiful woman, a shy and intelligent and very, very beautiful woman. Every smile or airy giggle had a young Vincent Valentine falling deeper and deeper. It didn't matter that the tender brunette was nearly ten years his senior; she was his, and he was hers, and she knew it. They were made for each other. It was obvious in every shared glance, every corresponding word, and every single time they came within the same room. They were like magnets; they were drawn to one another with an invisible pull that neither could resist.

Lucrecia taught him how to laugh, and to express his emotions even if it was laughable for a Turk to do so. And in return he taught her how to survive. He showed her how to shoot a gun and use a knife, the latter she preferred. Guns seemed to frighten the bright-eyed woman, and he had noted mentally to conceal his own customized pistol from then on when around her.

On the rare days they both had off they would picnic out in the rolling fields that surrounded the compound, conversing quietly about a number of varying topics until words became meaningless and they finally just sat together in silence, watching the misty clouds in the intrusive sky. They had never had the chance to kiss. It had never felt like the right time, and Vincent after a while wasn't even sure he was attracted to her in a sexual sense. Yes, her beauty drew him in, but it was more like a little boy looking at an authoritative female figure. He looked at Lucrecia with respect and all-consuming affection, but instead of them being level, he was looking _up to her_. As if she was a greater being, he felt it wouldn't be right to bring his lips to hers, to claim her mysterious body as his own. She was unattainable, and maybe that's what had attracted him to her so powerfully.

For years he had been at her side, had grown to love her more than he had ever thought possible. For years he had worked and smiled and laughed with her, only to turn around and morph into the cold mask that being a Turk required. For years he had become close to his colleagues, before realizing that they all died off too fast to become truly close to. For years it seemed like he had been leaping between Heaven and Hell, between war and paradise, until the paradise was lost and war prevailed.

It had been while he was on a seven month long mission that Lucrecia 'disappeared', and he hadn't found out until he returned from the West. Immediately he began his own private investigation which lasted another year and a half. He had his suspicions, but he had had to be sure, and it turned out he was exactly right. The Military, the Turks, the very people he had worked with for almost eight years, had executed her in the blink of an eye as soon as the order came.

The Why was what infuriated Vincent the most. Lucrecia was 'suspected' to be working privately for the Clandestines, who had allied with the Church countless years ago. His relationship with her was only more proof against her. He, being a half-breed, was part of the reason she was ruthlessly executed, and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life. Needless to say he was instantly disenchanted with the Military and left as soon as the embers of her death began to die down. He had known he was under scrutiny and constant surveillance, and leaving any time before the year was up would have been a mistake. In that year of Knowing, he became closed off, cold, and clinically efficient in missions. In essence, he had become the perfect Turk in a matter of months, and disappeared with Turk-like perfection as soon as it was possible.

Revenge had been an option, but who would he have to take out? Rufus Shinra had signed the order of execution, Tseng had initiated it, but who had issued it? Vincent would never know for sure, so he would never be satisfied. He couldn't blame Tseng, even if he was the one to pull the trigger. They were both Turks, so Vincent knew what disobeying an order meant. Death to Tseng and everyone close to him, as an example for the rest of the Military.

So Vincent could only flee to Hollow Bastion in hope of finding something beyond the gnawing, numbed pain that was eating at his heart ever so slowly, leaving behind the coldness that would remain for lifetimes. Loss was not an easy feeling, as he had learned from his parents, but it could be dealt with using distraction as a coping tool. He had wandered the familiar streets for months, observing the simple pedestrians around him and avoiding the Turks that were tracking him down. It was too easy, really, seeing how only three or four men could be spared to play hide-and-seek. Turks were a dying breed and the ones that were left alive were poor at their jobs. They melded to the shadows clumsily, their footfalls not entirely silent as they searched for their pray, while Vincent crept along the roofs above them soundlessly, watching them with a vague sense of curiosity and disappointment.

The least Tseng could do after such a harsh betrayal was give Vincent more competent entertainment.

The closest the assassins ever got to even getting a glimpse of him was when he had been in a bar one night. They must have given up the hunt for the day, and had walked right past him without even noticing the strange, Clandestine-looking man in the shadows of a dingy booth sipping a hard amber liquor. They merely sat at the bar and proceeded to drown themselves in the intoxicating liquids at their mercy. Fascinated and sick of being bored, Valentine stayed where he was, even going so far as to shift out of the shadows and into the filtering light of the crowded canteen.

Part of him had wanted to get caught and eliminated on the spot. That part of him viewed life as meaningless and cruel, something to be checked out of as soon as possible. The greater part of him felt that he would be disappointing Lucrecia, where she surely now resided with the Gods, if he were to kill himself. And so he didn't commit suicide by going up to meet the group of young Turks. He instead gave them the fair opportunity of discovering him, like tossing a coin. They had the abilities, had trained under him for a couple of years, so they should have found him out quickly.

But they never looked his way. They never scanned the room, which was incredibly ignorant and stupid of them, and walked right past him again on their way out without becoming aware of his presence. Only a young blonde woman met his eyes for a fraction of a second before stumbling and being led out by another young woman with red hair. He heard her slurred voice rising as they made their way outside, and caught his name in the midst of it, but her companions only laughed at her, chalking up the silly claim of finding their target to drunkenness.

Vincent had been disappointed and relieved, until a man sat down across from him in the booth, crystal-blue eyes hard and blonde hair matted with oil, as was the rest of his body.

Cid and he had talked for hours upon hours, even after they had to leave the closing bar, until dawn came into being. Cid knew who he was, and he knew who Cid was. He also knew every person that Cid mentioned he was staying with. Every one of them was ex-Military, and apparently they were about to head West. Vincent flippantly informed the man that there were many oasis's along the center of the desert, directly between Hollow Bastion and Radiant Garden, which would help a walking group along.

Cid had smirked and said that Valentine could direct them himself, since the half-Clandestine Turk bastard was coming with them.

And that's how Vincent Valentine's Church life began.

Now, years later, he contemplated on the one fact that had been true ever since he had left the East. You could take a man out of the Turks, but you couldn't take the Turk out of a man. Over and over, this thought ran through his mind as he blended into the shadows of a bookcase in the Cathedral of Hearts' library, listening to an extremely intriguing telephone conversation as he leaned motionlessly against the sturdy wood, pondering over what the one side that he was hearing could mean.

Zexion was a sort of enigma to him; the boy was a curiosity that he had no idea how to go about solving, not that he had ever been really interested enough to try. The youngest Guardian only crossed his mind in the sleepless hours of night when he drifted through the Cathedral or the peaceful city beyond its walls. In those times he thought of many things, and Zexion Ienzo was only a fleeting contemplation among the many others that crossed his thoughts.

But what he was hearing was certainly interesting enough for his full attention now, so he focused on remembering all he knew of the boy.

Zexion wasn't the best Guardian, but what was important was that he tried his best for Demyx. He had worked with the Military, under the infamous Doctor Vexen Even, but had abandoned that dream when Demyx was seriously injured a few years ago. Other than that, all he knew was that the teenager was more mature than most adults now. His thoughts were objective and actions clinically efficient. If he was less of an intellectual and had lower morals he would have made an excellent Turk.

But Zexion was passionate about human life in such a way that taking one would be near impossible for the boy.

Vincent knew that the Guardian was talking to Doctor Even, but couldn't help his surprise at the flustered finger-tapping the boy was doing. Slate eyes were scanning the words of an open book in front of him blankly, fingertips dancing along the page as his face contorted with countless emotions. Through every nervous gesture and tortured expression, though, the boy's voice was shockingly even and empty, until the end of the conversation neared.

Once Zexion set the phone down, Vincent turned away, slinking deeper into the dark side of the library, wondering over the new information running through his mind. So the Guardian was still making an attempt at figuring out what was wrong with the youngest Angel, Sora. Noble, but it was stupidly dangerous for him to even think of going to the East alone.

Zexion departed the library somewhere around an hour later and Vincent Valentine finally crept from the shadows to place a book on Demonology back on a shelf before following after the steel-haired Guardian. He caught up to the boy in the dining hall, where the majority of the Cathedral's occupants were now sitting. There were now only about seventy people in the Cathedral, the rest having departed after the emergency meeting, and so it took a number of seconds' scanning before he found the Guardian. He was sitting with Demyx on his right, Lexaeus on his left, and Sora and Riku in front of him. Riku and he were the only ones without a plate of fresh fruits, vegetables, and meats in front of them. Aerith and Zack sat facing each other a little ways down the table, so Vincent crept to the table on the side farthest away from the two. It's not that he didn't like them, they just made him uncomfortable with their obvious joy and love of life.

Lexaeus looked up only momentarily when he sat next to him instead of with his usual group across the huge room. Vincent could already feel Cid's gaze boring into him from across the massive distance, but his own red-hued eyes were locked on Zexion, of which Riku immediately took note of.

"Evening, Valentine," the silverette drawled in a companionable monotone that told that the young man understood the ex-Turk, unlike most of the others who lived here, "is there something you want, or are you just looking for a change of scenery?"

The rest of the group of youngsters finally looked up at him with varying looks of fear, wariness, and tentative speculation. He didn't even try to smile reassuringly for them. That may have been his first reaction many years ago, but now he simply remained blank-faced as he tilted his head slightly to indicate a small empty table in a corner, about fifty feet away.

"I need to speak with Ienzo."

Zexion hesitated, but nodded and stood. Vincent swept to his feet and led the way away from the now whispering Riku and Sora. Lexaeus simply watched them as they left, dark eyes speculative still.

Before they'd even gotten to the chosen table Vincent whirled around and crossed his arms, glaring down at the young Guardian, "You're not going to the East alone."

That small body immediately stiffened defensively but the face remained totally still and emotionless, "You were spying on me?"

He didn't answer, only kept his intent eyes on the boy.

"I _am_ going to the East alone, and I can't recall a reason why my actions would be any of your concern, Valentine."

"Your actions are going to put us all in danger. I can't let that happen."

"Are you going to attempt to keep me here, then?"

"No, I'm coming with you."

"Absolutely not."

"Who will protect Demyx? You're not strong enough to do it on your own."

Through the hurt, Zexion narrowed his eyes and a faint sneer marred his lips, "I'm not bringing Demyx."

"Yes you are."

"And why is that?"

"We all know what happened the last time you left him alone," Vincent growled, ignoring the violent wince that struck the boy, "are you really so eager to recreate what happened?"

"Demyx… is safer here."

"No," now his voice had turned sharp, and for once the ex-Turk was almost snapping, "Demyx is safer with his Guardian. He's safer with you in the middle of a battlefield than he is alone in a sanctuary."

Knowing that Zexion wasn't departing right away, Vincent decided to let him brood over the words he'd exchanged, and left in a flurry of tattered red cloak and a sense of incompletion. Ignoring Highwind and that table altogether, he strode from the dining hall, intent on putting his affairs in order for the short leave he would be taking.

†

Demyx, despite popular belief to the contrary, wasn't that stupid. As soon as Zexion got up and began talking to Vincent, he turned to Sora and Riku, who were going on about a plan of theirs about getting the healers to the Clandestines involving Twilight Town, listening idly while wondering silently to himself and keeping an eye on Zexion's back. He knew enough about Turks to ignore Vincent altogether and focus on Zexion's reactions. Every tensing in the shoulders and subtle tilting of the head was enough to give Demyx a feel for the direction of the conversation. When his Guardian was practically bristling, he considered getting up, but a consoling hand on his wrist made him look up at Sora, who was smiling brightly.

"You should leave them alone," the brunette whispered in a playfully conspiratorial way, even going so far as to lean in and dart his eyes about, "who knows what scary Turk secret things Vincent is telling Zexion right now."

Demyx decided to play along, letting the somberness fall away into a smug grin as he too leaned towards his fellow Angel, "I'm more worried that Zexy is trying to get training from him! If that vampire dude corrupts my little buddy… you just wait. I'll use ancient Clandestine water torture on him!"

The two broke into chuckles while Lexaeus and Riku watched on coolly. They were always the spoilsports of the group, handing out clean logic to fanciful musings that- though Demyx understood it perfectly of course- bored the blonde to death. Demyx tried to cheer them up and joke around with them all the time but their responses- or lack of- put a damper on any good mood. To get his mind off Zexion, Demyx let out a loud, good-natured sigh and slumped back, smiling at the two gloomy males of the table.

"Hey, why don't we play a game?"

Riku was the fastest in shooting him down, and did it none-too-gently, "A _game_?" He scoffed, "Demyx, in case you haven't noticed I'd like to let you know that we're in the middle of a _war_, we have no time for games. You're too old to continue on with things as childish as that; why don't you try to get some maturity, or at least help out around the Cathedral, instead of wasting time on something so stupid. Come on Sora, we have to get going. Let's talk to Aerith about our _strategies._"

That last part was directed pointedly at the blonde, in such a poisonous tone that he didn't know how to respond and the smile froze on his face. Stricken by the cold, harsh response, Demyx could only sit blankly when they got up, missing Sora's apologetic smile in his bemusement. Zexion returned quietly and sat without a word, leaning over to pick fruit off of Demyx's tray. But the Angel was frowning grumpily now, elbow anchored on the table and head tilted into his hand.

_Geez_, what was Riku's _problem_? It was only a little suggestion to lighten the mood. But then, Riku had never been one for games. He acted like taking part in something that wasn't productive was like getting a tooth pulled. Without anesthetic. By a farmer.

"-yx. Demyx!"

"Huh? What?" he jerked himself from his thoughts, arm slipping and face crashing onto the table. From that viewpoint he looked up at Zexion, who was frowning in an almost worried way.

"Have you not heard a word I've said?"

"Of course, Zexy. Um… could you give me a quick review?"

The teenager let out a swooping, exasperated sigh that made his thick hair shift in protest, "I was saying that I need to go East, and that I would like you to come with me."

"Me? Why?" Although Demyx was gleeful at the thought of Zexion actually needing him for once, the shock was pushing aside the smug, pleasant thoughts.

"So you don't get yourself killed while I'm gone."

The gleeful feelings crashed and burned, and he felt a pout turn his lips as he sat back up.

"What do you need to do?" It's not like the blonde had anything else to do. Getting out of Radiant Garden would be a relief.

"I need to acquire a tome that may be of help in solving Sora's little puzzle. One of my former colleagues has it; I spoke with him earlier. He's expecting me in a few days, so we need to leave in the morning. While packing, keep in mind that we may be there a few days and it takes a full day to make it through the desert. I'm going to prepare. I'll meet you tomorrow morning in the chapel."

As Zexion was standing up, Demyx finally sputtered out his concerns, rising as well to stare down at his Guardian, "What, a colleague? We're going onto a Military base? Does Aerith know about this?"

A dangerous gleam entered those dark gray-blue eyes that stared up at him warningly, "_Aerith_ is not our superior, Demyx. We will not be telling her of our plans, understand?"

"But _Zexion_-!"

"Shut up and go get ready, Demyx-" The coldness in which the words were said seemed to seep straight through the Angel to clench around his heart, and it _hurt_. He turned away before either of them could say anything more and stomped away, ignoring the fact that he probably looked like a moody, petulant child.

Moving through the doors of the dining hall without looking back, he yelled ruthlessly, gaining many people's shocked attention, "No one in this DAMNED place knows how to LIGHTEN THE HELL UP!"

Many moments later, the furious slam of his door echoed down the entire living area, causing many eyes to light on the door with concern and astonishment. They promptly retreated when the shouting and banging began. By the time his fury had tapered off into a heady weariness, Demyx's room had been torn apart. Colorful glass was shattered all around and every uplifting painting he had had been ripped apart and scattered around a now-stained plush aquamarine rug on the marble floor. The azure bedspread was covered in angry slashes, bleeding out feathers. The guitar that had once stood proud in the corner was a mess of sleek light wood and snapped strings, the wall nearest where the remnants lay gouged and dented and streaked black, marring the white-smudged blue paint.

The young Angel collapsed onto the destroyed bed and ignored it when an army of feathers floated up and landed on exposed skin, scratching at him lightly as he closed his eyes. The roiling emotions underneath the skin had settled, but were still tearing at his insides with claws and leaving an icy, hollow twinge in his chest. He didn't even notice when he fell asleep.

But when he woke up, a pair of slim arms was draped securely around his midsection and he could feel the tell-tale sign of a nose and forehead between his shoulder blades. Rolling his eyes groggily, he turned onto his back, nudging the figure away a bit before relaxing and pulling the still-slumbering boy closer so that Zexion's sleep-mussed head was resting on his stomach.

As he woke up he glanced around the room, smiling dimly when he noticed that it had been somewhat cleaned up and there were a few travel bags loaded to bursting sitting by the door. It looked like his little Guardian had been up for some time after him. The sun was beginning to filter in through the single window of the bedroom that faced into the courtyard. Demyx lay mutely and considered not waking Zexion at all; wondering if the Guardian would forget about leaving on this stupid little trip.

Before the idea could really take root, though, there was a gentle but insistent knocking on the window, making Demyx jump and in turn causing him to wake up Zexion. And when the boy woke up, he was up. He jolted into a sitting position, following Demyx's eyes toward the source of the noise.

Vincent Valentine stood outside the window, looking like a total creeper- in Demyx's opinion- his gold gauntleted hand raised to the glass. Behind him the sun was beating down on the glossy green plants and white and gold flowers, making the ex-Turk seem entirely out of place. Zexion struggled to his feet, pushing on Demyx to get the blonde moving as well.

"Damn it," the Guardian hissed under his breath, straightening the white and gold-embroidered jacket that hung heavily off of his small frame, "the sun's already up."

Demyx simply sighed as he got up and pulled on his boots, ignoring when Zexion opened the window and murmured quietly to Vincent.

So the creepy assassin dude was coming too. Why was he always the last to know these things? Everyone thought he was too stupid, too shallow to understand fully what was going on, but he understood things all too well. Sora may talk to the Gods, Zexion may be a genius, Riku may be strong, and everyone else may be more experienced, but Demyx had a light within him that no one could replicate. He fought to bring that light out and let it shine on everyone around him, to brighten their lives or at least the moment. Everyone was always so serious that they rarely took the time to look up.

Only minutes later the Angel and Guardian were climbing out the window like delinquents, following after the red-cloaked man as he led them through the emergency exit situated under a bench in the flowery sanctuary. Demyx was the last down and took an extra moment to gaze around at the flowers before smiling slightly and lifting a hand upward so that the sun was kissing his palm. He closed his eyes and focused, letting the energy thrumming in his chest flow out, to settle on his palm. With barely a twitch in focus he sent that power up into the sky. Before he could even open his eyes once more, water droplets were raining down on him, glistening in his hair and caressing his face like the softest of diamonds.

Water shimmered on the large glossy petals of Aerith's beloved flowers and continued to fall from above from a single dark cloud situated directly above the courtyard.

All the dark emotions and thoughts that had been clouding Demyx's head and heart since the day before dissipated and a brightness filled the places that had been vacated. He wanted to lift his arms and move his feet to the soothing, gingerly thunderous beating of the rain in a cheery dance, but Zexion's voice from the trapdoor echoed up to him, slightly concerned in tone. Reality wound down on Demyx, and he could feel the ache in his legs where the water hit. Aches that told history; how his limbs had been broken and torn to hell by ruthless, heartless soldiers. With this reality came an image of Zexion's face, full of tears and icy shock as he stood by Demyx's sickbed, the teenager's hands enclosing his tightly, desperately.

_"It's alright Zex. It wasn't your fault."_

The Angel's fading smile morphed into a grin and he spun around, away from the beautiful garden, and ducked down the trapdoor to catch a ladder between his fingers. Shuffling from below told him that Zexion was becoming nervous and was pacing, overlaid by the sound of rain tapping the ground they were walking under. He slid down the rails with a gleeful shout and dropped onto the ground beside his Guardian, toppling over from the loss of balance and increased momentum. Cold, damp stone pressed into his palms as he pushed himself up, grimacing momentarily at the chill of the tunnel. _When's the last time anyone went through here, anyway? It's freezing!_

"Myde, must you pretend that everything is a playground? Honestly, you are so insufferable."

The words were harsh, but Zexion looked as if he was struggling not to smile, and the hands that helped him up were gentle and tender.

Vincent's husky growl was tinted with amusement, making Demyx jump and whirl around to face the looming vampire of a man. He was also smiling, "I don't know, Zexion. He took that drop like a professional Turk."

"I will not join your legions of the undead!" Demyx blurted without thought, immediately clasping his hands over his mouth afterward.

Zexion's expression was of priceless shock, mouth open and eyes blank. Vincent Valentine, the grim ex-assassin and all-around somber son of a bitch, had thrown his head back and was laughing uncontrollably.

Demyx's hands lowered and his grin returned full-force. It didn't matter where he went, as long as there were people like Zexion and Vincent he could cheer up. What was so bad about going to the East? It's not like they would take one look at Demyx and know what he was.

They started down the dark tunnel, Zexion leading, as Vincent began to talk lowly, pressing something square and stiff into the blonde's hand.

"That is your false identification. They'll ask for it at the North Branch. Zexion and I won't need it since they already know who we are, but Demyx, you need to be extremely careful, understand?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" he pocketed the ID badge and began to wring out his soaked hair and clothes. The coolness of the tunnel was beginning to make his drenched body shiver with cold.

Not that he had to worry for long. Soon Zexion was shoving a boulder to the side and sunlight flooded the dreary enclosure, leading them out beyond the edge of the force dome. It would take a few hours before they would even reach the edge of the desert, and then it was almost a full day of walking- if they were lucky- to get through to the other side. The North Branch was supposedly only a mile or two from the desert, but that was only a small blessing.

The sun was glaring down from above, a great fire sweeping heat across the forests of the West that surrounded the dome, was pleasant now, but when they reached the bowels of the sands of the desert it would be torture. Demyx caught Zexion's anxious look and smiled brightly in encouragement, taking two of the larger bags from his Guardian. He hefted them over his shoulders and nodded to both his companions, starting off ahead of them with a bounce in his step and a grin on his face.

When they reached the desert hours later, he was whistling.

When there was sand all around and his allies were dead-silent in the oppressive heat, Demyx began singing.

Refreshing rain began to fall from the sky.

"It's alright, Zex. It's just sand."

_"It's alright, Zex…"_

**AN: So how was it? You shocked, disappointed, ecstatic? All of the above? xD Indeed, I made Demyx a bit bipolar, but to my defense he was extremely bipolar in the game! I know I probably trashed Vincent's character completely; he's just so damn hard to write! I've played Dirge of Cerberus and everything but he's still a mystery to me that I just can't seem to grasp. **

**Next chapter- Zack and Aerith. You gotta love 'em. :)**


	11. Preparations and Percolations

**AN: Ah I got some new reviewers and I'm so excited and pleased that more and more people are liking this story! Thank you everyone who reviewed, and even you non-reviewers that enjoy this story! Every word I recieve makes me want to type away another twenty chapters all at once. Unfortunately, that's impossible of course, and this chapter is totally raw so if you see a total mess-up please tell me about it?  
I've discovered that it's an extremely painful and time-consuming process to try and find a Beta. I must've gone through thirty profiles and I'm still dissatisfied, so if anyone has any advice or ideas for me I would greatly appreciate it! Thanks for reading, on to chapter nine! :)**

CHAPTER NINE: Preparations and Percolations

Sunlight shone in a crystalline-clear window of glass, spreading over white and pink sheets and encasing the small room with a glow of warmth and life. It touched over spilled brunette hair as lovingly as the calloused hand that stroked through the long strands. Zack smiled tenderly at the beautiful woman's still face and let his thumb brush over her cheek. Velvety smooth and rosy, the woman's skin always transfixed the Guardian, and when her hair was loose from its usual braid and fanned around her shoulders like this, he couldn't take his eyes or his hands away. He ducked down and pressed his lips to hers lightly before drawing away and cupping her perfect face in his rough, tanned hands.

He always felt like a tirelessly working peasant holding a princess in his arms every time he was near her, and he doubted the breathless feeling would ever fade. It had been there ever since he was old enough to understand what the emotions were. The deepest love beat beneath his ribs with every pulse of his heart, even though he had still been a child when he met her, and she a full grown woman. Now he was the same as her in appearance, and couldn't help but want to hold and kiss her like the lover he'd always wanted from her.

Drawing away with the most soundless of sighs, he placed a steady hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, fixing a smile on his face, "Aer. Come on, Aeri, rise and shine, face the day!"

Zack knew by heart the system in which Aerith Gainsborough woke up and he could have made a fortune on betting on the routine. First she made a drawn out sound between a whine and a whimper, then she snuggled deeper into the sheets and pillow she cradled between shapely arms. After that Zack would have to give her another, more insistent nudge, and she would kick the sheets away from her legs and release her choke hold on the pillow. Finally he would be faced with two shimmering, emerald green eyes staring up at him dazedly.

Tried and true, this morning played out exactly how he'd expected, and he smiled down at the groggy woman, "Well, good morning Angel. Breakfast in bed?"

"Zack…" perfect pink lips stretched in a yawn as the Guardian leaned to the side, half-rising from the bed to pick up the tray from the bedside table.

He continued without allowing her to complain about the early hour, as he knew she would. One would think such an ancient Angel as Aerith would get out of bed without objection, but Zack had to face this every morning, "You have morning prayers in half an hour, while I will gather the rest of the Knights for training. At noon we will need to escort Tifa, Kairi, and Namine to Twilight Town as we have planned. So you need to get up quickly, alright? Today's gonna be a busy one."

Aerith yawned again while sitting up and began eating the simple breakfast of bread, strawberries, and fruit juice without question. Zackary Fair rose from the edge of the bed and went to the single, door-less closet to pick out one of the many monotonous robes that Aerith would wear for the day. It was all white and gold. That was all the Angels and Guardians were allowed by tradition. Zack almost missed the days he could wear black, but the sacrifice- to him- was small compared to the gain. The opportunity to stand by Aerith's side every day for the rest of their lives.

Picking out a simple dress that would allow more mobility, his eyes scanned over the cloth with meticulous practice. The gold stitching of a heart ringed with a halo was directly in the middle of the breast, and was also bordering the cuffs of the bell sleeves and the bottom hem of the dress. Unlike most of the other Church garments, it didn't have a collar, but instead dove down to end just beneath the collarbones. Zack almost envied it for a moment, feeling the tightness of the collar hugging his throat uncomfortably. It was a sensation he had long gotten used to though, and he laid the clothing on the sheets by the Angel's feet with a tiny smile.

He raised his eyes to the reticent brunette and saw that she had finished only half of her miniscule breakfast before setting the platter to the side, and his smile fell. Her eyes turned sharp as they fixated on his, as if daring him to comment. He didn't.

"I'll see you after morning prayers, then."

"Gods bless, Zackary. Lead our Knights well."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered as he shut the door behind him with finality, letting it echo louder than usual to inform her of his disapproval.

She had been eating less and less the past few months, and had lost much weight, making even the most form-fitting of clothes hang off of her already scarily small frame loosely. The only time he'd dared question it, she had snapped at him for the first time in their entire life together. And so he'd resolved to stay silent until it got so drastic that the situation _had_ to be addressed. What else could he do, after all?

The sun was inching its steady way upward in the pale morning sky when he stepped out of the Cathedral with a spring to his step. A smile was plastered on once more as he strode off towards the thick copse of woods just yards from the outside of the dome barrier. Stepping through the shimmering wall of green, blue, and gold was always disorienting and made him pause to catch his breath for a moment, even after doing this thousands of times before. It was like stepping through someone's body; the dome was sentient in a way that was both enthralling and disturbing.

Minutes later he was leaving the densely packed trees into a large clearing that was seemingly random. But many other people were already gathered, all draped in the gold and black that proclaimed them as Knights of the Church.

He gave a cheery wave, eyes immediately locking on the two foremost figures heading the group. To them he gave a sheepish grin, rubbing at the back of his hair in a nervous gesture, "Ah, hey Angeal, Genesis. Sorry I'm a little late. Aerith, you know?"

The redheaded ex-soldier smirked and uncrossed his arms to brace his hands on his hips in a faintly feminine gesture, "Zackary. Always distracted by your little bird."

Angeal looked much less amused and more concerned. Zack cast his eyes away from his old mentor, knowing his gaze could give everything away, if Angeal didn't already know about Aerith's deteriorating health.

"Aaaanyway, let's get this show on the road!" Zack grinned at the rest of the Knights, waving them closer, "Aqua and Terra? Why don't you guys head it off?"

The two youngest Knights straightened at being addressed and nodded in unison, but Aqua was the first to speak- always the perfectionist and approval-seeker.

"The Clandestines have made no motion to contact us, but also have not made any other moves against the Military. Our domestic informants are as clueless as us."

"So basically, nothing new on that front. Terra, you have anything to add, buddy?"

"Only that the Military security within Twilight Town has been exponentially increased. Also, Turks have been confirmed in the city as well."

Murmurs rose between the other men and women, an uneasy tension resonating throughout the area with the body heat. And that's when Zack noticed someone missing. Wakka and Tidus were standing together, the taller leaning against the trunk of a tree and the younger in a relaxed slump, arms crossed loosely but mouth set in a firm line. Cid, Yuffie, and Barret were standing just off to the side of Angeal and Genesis, all looking unusually serious at the mention of the Turks. And there was Eraqus standing behind his pupils, a hand on each of their shoulders, scarred face set in his mask of neutrality.

Vincent Valentine was nowhere to be seen.

Zack filed this away before sighing greatly and raising his hands, "Well, let's get going on drills. Nothing we can do about the Turks or security other than taking a few of us with the girls later today. Genesis, if you would lead?"

Weapons of choice appeared in experienced hands and the familiar drills commenced, blades and flashing metallic stars cutting through the morning sunlight and hissing through the air as bodies moved and danced with each other in fluid, practiced moves. Genesis twirled from person to person, followed by Angeal, Zack, and Eraqus, giving each Knight a different form of opponent to tackle. Minutes of this passed, with the only chatter coming from the more experienced barking out corrections and encouragements, until Zack stopped in front of Yuffie.

She was a sprightly little thing that proudly proclaimed her status as 'ultimate ninja' and had the skills to back up the big mouth. Her dark eyes glittered as she grinned up at Zack and went through some new moves that he murmured praise at, but still he deflected each lithe attack with the giant blade of the Buster Sword or twisted away at the last moment. Theirs truly was a dance because of Yuffie's type of fighting. She fought quick and she fought dirty, and had taught Zack a thing or two about this certain structure of fighting style. Which was really no style or structure at all, just a bunch of desperate tosses, dodging, and punches- something the Guardian hadn't experienced before he met the flighty teenager.

"Hey Yuffie," he said pleasantly as he dodged a precisely thrown star that would have left a nasty ass scar had he been a half second slower, "you hang with Vincent a lot, right? You and him are buddies?"

Her response was a grunt when she came fist-to-steel as she struck the flat of the Buster, coming face to face with her mirror reflection, "Yeah, so?"

"Do you know where he is right now? It's weird that he missed a gathering."

He wasn't nearly as winded as her and she practically wheezed a response as she stumbled into a cartwheel to dodge a lazy sword swipe, "Yeah uh, we're not that close, Porcupine. He's probably off daydreaming somewhere like usual. Yeesh, I bet he got lost in his head on the way here- OUCH! Gods, watch how hard you SWING that THING!"

"You get distracted too easily, you have to hold focus even in the middle of battle. If you don't hurt, you won't learn."  
"DAMN IT ZACK!"

He retreated, laughing when she attempted to chase him whilst clutching a rapidly bruising shin. He commended her silently for making five steps before falling on her ass with a loud, high whine. And then he swung his blade up to block a sword that descended dangerously close to his shoulder, grinning at Tidus past the clashing metal.

"Well, well. Someone's been learning. When did you get so fast, kid?"

The blonde's handsome features were pulled taut in somberness, though, and he pushed forward, feet pressing into the ground as he forced Zack backwards. Only mildly put-off, the Guardian pressed right back, clapping a palm to the Buster and tilting it at an angle to let Tidus's blade deflect and swing clumsily to the side. He leapt back to avoid a cleverly-aimed boot meant to trip, readying Buster once more.

"You've got the spunk and the speed, but your tactics still need some work. You leave too many openings even a novice could exploit, and though you're strong you're too overbearing with your opponent. One slip up or underestimation and you're dead as a dandelion."

"Why won't you let Riku join the Knights?"

Random though the harsh inquiry was, it wasn't unexpected. Zack sighed once more, tired of Tidus's question game. He'd been demanding an answer for the past four or five years and the Guardian was becoming sick of it. He had no idea what drove the kid, and couldn't do anything about the anger the blonde harbored for him, so he hadn't been able to change a thing in those years. Why didn't he let Riku join the Knights? Tidus wouldn't understand.

"I have my reasons." The unbearably repeated answer every single time left a bitter trail on his tongue on its way out.

Swords clanged together once more, with more vigor this time as Tidus got serious and began to let his impatience through the strained mask he was wearing.

"Did you ever even consider it, Fair? He's more than proved himself to us. He's the best Guardian an Angel could have!"

Ooh. Ouch. Looks like the kid had built up his arsenal of derisive remarks since last week. Zack exaggerated a wince and patted his chest with the hand not using his sword to block Tidus's angry, ungainly attacks.

"That hurt, man. Especially coming from someone who could never understand the huge duty being a Guardian entails."

Usually Zack was never the type to shoot back biting words, but he had just never gotten along with Tidus, and the kid's continual childish antics were enough to earn the Guardian's rare temper. But damn did the insufferable blonde have a good arm, and a fairly good head between his shoulders. If he hadn't, he would have been discharged long ago.

From the corner of his eye the ravenette glimpsed a momentary stiffening in Wakka's shoulders, but the redhead didn't step in to defend his pal. Good for him. Wakka was a good guy, and even he was sometimes annoyed by Tidus's pestering. Zack wasn't sure if that was for his sake, or if it was because of some kind of jealousy over Tidus and Riku's close friendship.

It didn't really matter, as long as the young man stayed out of this little conflict. The meeting of steel came once more before Zack decided to put an end to the skirmish by giving a deft twist of his body, putting all the force he had into swinging the blonde off-balance. Tidus went spinning to the ground in a heap of ungainly limbs and muffled complaints sounding into the dirt and grass of the clearing.

The Guardian stifled the atypical sneer threatening to break out on his face and turned away, "Fix that balance, Tidus. It's atrocious."

Then he was on to Eraqus's students, ignoring the glare burning into his back as he parried and swung half-heartedly. Sometimes it just became boring when he was so much stronger and more knowledgable than these students, but it was all worth it in the end. Starting out, not many of these people would be able to stand their own against a salamander, much less a soldier of the Military. It was obvious in the young man he now faced. Terra was always a quiet do-as-you're-told type of teenager, but lately he'd finally been making progress in finding himself. Being close to the Gods, Zack could see the darkness residing in the boy. It had been receding as of late, and just a faint wisp of light could be seen through the pulsating black.

And so he had changed his tactics for the boy. Instead of beating him into shape, Zack had switched to gently but firmly cheering the boy on, telling him of dreams and honor and the shining future of the Kingdom. This had seemed to help a lot, and Zack was now gifted with a respectful nod from Master Eraqus every time he passed him or sat near him wherever they were.

Recognition from a man that mysteriously powerful was enough encouragement for Zack to extend the support outwards to the rest of the young ones, and suddenly he had turned into everybody's big brother; everybody's hero and role model. It was as endearing to him as it was frustrating. He had always wanted to be a hero of course. A hero to Aerith, a hero to the country, to the world… but he wasn't even close to that point yet. He hadn't even become known to the Military yet. He was just drifting until everything was set up and ready over in the East.

Right now, Cloud and his allies were their greatest hope, and that didn't sit right with Zack. He'd always gotten along with the blonde, yes, but the rest of the gang he wasn't so trusting of. The only other one he knew of was Reno, but there had to be more. Someone ingrained in the North Branch.

The Guardian Knight shook the thoughts and concerns away as he turned to Aqua. Giving an easy grin since she was one of his favorite students, he raised his blade defensively and let her strike first. Just as her blue blade struck his silver one, though, a shout rang through the trees.

Every heel turned as one and various weapons lifted toward the source of the noise. Zack strode to the front, blade slung lazily over his shoulder as his sharp violet eyes scanned the tree line.

"Zack! Zack Fair!"

The Guardian recognized the raised voice immediately and hurried forward just as Riku broke through the shadows of the forest, shaking leaves from dirtied white and gold garment agitatedly, an unsettled heat burning beneath pale skin, making the young silverette look like a cat being ruffled the wrong way.

"Riku, what is it?" He asked quickly, sliding his monster of a sword into the harness on his back.

"Zexion and Demyx are gone."

"_What_?" Zack sent a rigid look towards the murmuring Knights and met Angeal's curious navy eyes, "Take over for me?"

"Of course, Zack. Go on, then."

The ravenette strode into the woods, grabbing Riku's wrist and dragging him along as he went, quickening to a near-sprint. Once they were behind the dome barrier and standing before the Cathedral, Zack finally skidded to a halt, rounding on the younger Guardian.

"What's going _on_?"

"All I know is Demyx and Zexion are gone. Their travel bags are gone, too."

"They _ran away_?"

"Looks like it… what should we do? Having no Angels in the city is dangerous. The barrier will fall and I don't know if Sora will survive another one."

Zack paused at the words and cursed beneath his breath, ruffling his ebony spikes in a gesture of extreme frustration. His eyes darted around, taking in Riku's mild but obviously miffed expression and the Cathedral behind the young man. The pale spires rose high and rosy colored glass glinted in the morning sunlight. This had been home for more than a decade for him, and it was being put in danger. All because of that damn Zexion. Demyx wouldn't have gone off alone, and was probably kicking and screaming the whole way away. The blonde Angel would have told Aerith they were going. It had to be Zexion.

"Sora will have to be able to defend Radiant Garden on his own. We need Aerith to come with us to Twilight Town. Sorry, it's not an option. You're going to have to leave him here and come with us."

A strange, muddled look overtook the silverette's striking face, making the boy look puzzled and… scared?

"Zack… I have never left Sora's side in the past seven years- not once. We have not been more than a mile away from each other for almost a decade."

Zack nodded and bent at the waist, bracing his hands on Riku's shoulders so that he could peer into the other's face easier. Violet eyes softened as they darted between tumultuous aqua, "I know, Riku, and I am so sorry to put you in this position. But this is important. Please. You'll only be away for a day at the most. I promise."

†

Creeping towards noon, the sun found Aerith, the most ancient of Angels, searching through the rooms of the Cathedral of Hearts hastily, the skirts of her dress twirling around her legs as she hurriedly explored the Cathedral from one end to the other. By the time she finally located her quarry her feet were aching from the unused-to exercise in her heavy boots. She practically limped into the courtyard from the dining hall and breathed a deep sigh of relief when she saw a head of spiky brunette hair drooping towards the ground where he sat cross-legged.

Aerith opened her mouth to call his name and started forward, but froze when she noted the shaking of the teenager's shoulders. Her lips sealed closed and she began moving once more, letting her boots fall silently on the faintly glittering grass and ignoring the water that soaked into the hems of her skirts. She kneeled down beside the boy and draped an arm over his shoulders comfortingly, drawing his small body into hers as the muffled cries finally came out in little gasps.

He kept his face resolutely down and away, hands grasping opposite arms tightly and shoulders hunched up. His whole posture resonated stiff discomfort and emotional agony. Aerith could only tighten her hold around the boy and smile softly, attempting to let her peaceful aura wash over him.

"Sora," she murmured, rubbing his shoulder tenderly, "he will only be gone for a day. He'll come back."

"What if he gets hurt?" Sora choked out haltingly, struggling against the obviously unstoppable flow of tears, "What if Riku gets hurt and I'm not there? What if he dies and I'm not there to help him? Aerith, what do I do?"

Aerith's smile widened and her voice strengthened, "You chin up, little Angel. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. Your and Riku's is a bond I have never in all my years seen before. No matter how far away you are from each other, you are still connected."

"How?" Sora wondered, finally looking up to reveal a blotchy, tear-stained face and so, so wide sky-blue eyes.

"Here," Aerith tapped his chest lightly, laughing kindly when the youngest Angel jerked his head down to follow the motion of her hand, "your hearts are connected."

"That's right, Sora. All our hearts are connected, but you and Riku are on a whole other level."

The two brunettes looked up at the grinning young lady standing before them with her hands folded neatly behind her back, a scarlet veil falling over her face from the tiny white cap fixed in her burgundy hair. Her dress was simple with no designs, only two wide stripes of white framing a red stripe down the middle of her body. It was the uniform of the medics, and Kairi looked absolutely angelic in it as she tilted her head merrily.

"Well? Sora? Are you going to perk back up or am I going to have to drag Riku in here?"

The boy's eyes locked onto the ground and his lips quivered once more when he muttered, "We already said our goodbyes."

"Geez, you sound like he's going away for a year, silly! Shed some tears for me, right? I'm going to be gone a lot longer than that stubborn brute!"

Sora's body stiffened in Aerith's hold and he jumped up quickly, a grin stretching his lips to reveal a crescent of white teeth. He hopped forward and enveloped his second best friend in a crushing hug, and Aerith just sat and peacefully watched the two teenagers embrace lovingly. If only these people could spread this love over the entire country, the entire world, there would be no blood spilled by human hands.

The ancient woman climbed to her feet unsteadily, stumbling for just a moment, and walked to the two friends. She put a hand on each of their shoulders and smiled brightly,

"Kairi, we must be going soon. It's noon. Has Zack gathered everyone out front?"

"Yes, Aerith. But Zack wanted you to be aware that Vincent Valentine is nowhere to be found."

The woman's brow furrowed confusedly and worriedly. Vincent was supposed to be a peace-keeper of sorts on their journey to Clandestia, since he was of half of each culture. With him gone, as well as the other Angel and Guardian…

"Vincent, Demyx, and Zexion; all gone without a word and without a sound. Where in the world did they go?" Kairi murmured as if to herself, but her look to her two companions showed that her inquiry was sincere.

Aerith shook her head slowly, squeezing the teenagers' shoulders lightly, "I haven't an idea, but I know that they would not just leave like this normally. They're doing something important, I'm sure. Something good for us, so we can only pray for them."

Sora and Kairi nodded soberly before stepping away from each other and Aerith. The oldest Angel smoothed her dress down and glanced around her feet at the water droplets that clung to the long strands of vibrant grass and lustrous flower petals. She suddenly grinned widely and knelt down to scoop up one of the flowers. Its stem had no leaves and the flower was open with large triangle-shaped yellow petals surrounding a red-tinted center and pollen powdering the inside. Little wet crystals were nestled into the crooks and crannies of the flower, and Aerith made sure to be extra careful as she held the plant out for Sora to take, not letting a drop spill.

The boy accepted it hesitantly, gazing up at Aerith questioningly. She leaned down so that they were eyelevel and gave a tiny tilt of the head to indicate the flower, "Taste the water from that flower, feel the golden pollen on your fingertips, and smell the perfume that this flower is offering, and know that there is life all around you. Know that if so many precious wonders could be contained all in just this tiny plant, how many wonderful things are out there in the world. Miracles are real, Sora. I know that you understand that, perhaps better than everyone else."

Sora nodded and cradled the flower to them. Kairi said a quiet goodbye and departed with a wave. Aerith paused at the door and looked back for just a moment, giving a tiny sigh of relief when she saw Sora placing the flower to his lips. Going through the Cathedral once more was a much easier ordeal now that she had a restored confidence in their youngest Angel.

Walking through the front doors with Kairi, she was faced with a small group of Knights gathered behind Riku and Zack, surrounding Namine and Tifa in a protective ring. Kairi passed her to join the other medics, straightening her veil carefully. Aerith trotted over to Zack, barely noticing that one of her legs didn't seem to be working right. She was having to limp slightly to keep an even pace, but she ignored it to wrap an arm around her Guardian's waist, letting her body sink into his.

However, she caught Riku's faint grimace of longing and pain at the gesture and felt only a moment of guilt before Zack's arm tightened around her shoulders.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded and let Zack lead the way to the far edge of the city. Many minutes later they were approaching the large metallic hangar that held all of Radiant Garden's public vehicles. Zack didn't even pause before directing everyone into an enormous armored truck, helping Aerith up into the passenger side before climbing up into the driver's seat. The space behind the seats was open so Riku perched right behind them as the ravenette revved the monstrous vehicle to roaring, grumbling life.

"Hey," the silverette snapped, making Aerith turn slightly to peer at him through the corner of her eye. His face was scrunched as if he had tasted something extremely bitter, and Aerith couldn't contain her tiny laugh at his waspish inquiry, "when's the last time this pile of shit was on the sand?"

Zack only laughed, but Aerith couldn't help but ask, "That's right. You've never ridden in a truck, have you Riku? I assure you it's perfectly safe."

"Yeah, death traps are usually safe," the boy drawled sarcastically.

The older Guardian rolled his eyes and expertly twisted the wheel to turn out of the hangar and straight into the sand of the desert. A vehicle of this size wouldn't be able to straddle the line between desert and forest, so they would have to move south in the desert all the way down to Twilight Town.

When Riku didn't cease with the mumbled complaints, Zack laughed, "Riku, are you going to be a baby the whole way there? I thought you were better than this."

"Forgive me for wanting to live."

"Your lack of trust in me hurts real bad, Ri-Ri."

"I'll give you something that hurts real bad if you _ever_ call me that again, Puppy."

Aerith turned to the glass window on her side, smiling out at the passing forests just miles away on the horizon. Gritty sand sprayed up from the wheels and tittered off the glass, a sound that was lulling the Angel to sleep, along with the droning backdrop of Riku and Zack's bickering. Just as her consciousness was fading, fingers twined with hers and a warm hand pressed against her palm. A smile flickered across her lips before exhaustion won out and she faded from reality.

†

**_"They are coming."_**

****Sora jerked upright from the pew he had been sitting in, eyes widening at the loud, comingled voices speaking in unison. Tidus and Selphie rose after he did, questioning him worriedly, but he couldn't hear them. All he knew was the roar of the ages whirling through his head, and those deep, echoing words.

**_"They are coming, Sora."_**

****"Who is coming?" He whispered, vision flashing between blinding white and dark silhouettes to Tidus, Selphie, and now Terra's shocked faces.

**_"Hurry- the barrier-"_**

****They didn't have to say another word; Sora's legs were moving faster than he'd ever run before, sprinting from the Cathedral and to the edge of the dome, heart thundering when he saw a small army of trucks and cycles just miles away, coming from the desert. The Angel slammed to his knees not five feet from the shimmering field of energy and planted his palms on the ground, forehead already glistening with sweat and breath coming shallowly as he pushed all his power into the ground, and up into the other flows of energy.

The dome lit like a beacon; a sudden bright gold flashing lightning-fast over the three layers of the barrier, then sinking into the light, turning Demyx's water golden and Aerith's green webbing power silvery.

"TERRA!" He shrieked over the hum of energy thrumming around them and reverberating with pulsating life.

The Knight rushed to his side hesitantly, obviously extremely torn and conflicted, "Yes, Sora? What do you need?"

"I need you to spread the emergency alarm! Get the civilian brigade together and get everyone else underground! I'm going to hold this as long as I can, but you need to get everyone to safety! Try to find someone that can go after Zack and Aerith, too! Hurry!"

The Knight hastened away without question or comment, and Sora returned his focus to the task at hand, seeing that the hostile vehicles were coming up fast. He watched in a muted type of panicked fascination when the twenty-ton metal machines made an impossibly smooth transition from sand to grass, and suddenly he could make out too many details on the cycles and leading transport vehicle thundering towards the dome.

He felt the vibration of the tires echoing through his bones and he snapped his eyes shut, hugging his body to the ground as he bent his entire mind on the dome. The energies were shivering at the excitement, writhing within its lineless confines, making it seem even more unstable than it really was.

"Come on," Sora whispered, pressing his brow to the dirt and praying with all his heart and soul, "please help my people."

The impact of tons of metal hitting the barrier at once sent a bright white flash through the sky, illuminating everything within a mile in blinding light. A scream rang through the white, soon joined by another, and then another.

The Gods were not pleased.

**AN: Terrible cliffhanger, I know. Bleh! Like it? Hate it? I know I made Zack and Tidus total assholes toward each other and that's a little strange, but you gotta have some inner conflicts between people, and that's the one I settled on so sorry if you thought it was horrible butchery of Zack or Tidus's character. Anyway, thank you for reading and feel free to verbally lynch me if you feel the urge! :) Thank you again my wonderful reviewers!  
Next chapter- Cloud, because I can't help but feel guilty for pushing him to the side for so long. Back to the Military!**


	12. New Issues, New Allies

**AN: Chapter ten- hallelujah! With school starting tomorrow I was sooo busy this past week. But I have finished this relatively short, tie-together chapter! I hope you enjoy it, please leave a review if you love it or hate it so I can know what I was strong in or weak in. Thank you for reading! :) And thank you thank you thank you to all who reviewed before! I get all warm and bubbly inside when I see encouragement and realize that yes, people actually are ****_entertained_**** by my work. xD I scream and throw my hands in the air every time, like the dork I am. Anyway, onto Chapter Ten!**

CHAPTER TEN: New Issues, New Allies

Cloud couldn't think. He couldn't think, he couldn't concentrate, and he couldn't stand one more moment with Leon. The man was completely insufferable. The ride to Hollow Bastion was fine, and the blonde had even managed to sneak in a phone call to Zack and Aerith after dinner at one of the modest restaurants in the city, but the night in the dinky little hotel room had soured the warm feelings between the two close friends. As the hours had passed, the scarred brunette was becoming more and more unsettled, and woke Cloud up often throughout the night to question him and inquire if he was alright. Morning finally came and Leon wouldn't allow Cloud to control the motor bike. And so the blonde was stuck wrapping his arms around the man's slim middle, grumbling and spitting into his back every few minutes.

"Cloud, stop talking, please."

"I can't help it! How can you stand all those goddamned devils spread throughout the entire fucking Military? They're all _evil_, Leon, and you're too good to be a part of the treachery they take part in. Goddamned _demons_, devils, thieves, _murderers_-

"Cloud, that's traitorous talk, please try to hold your tongue?"

"No! I've held my tongue for the last decade and I am sick of hiding behind this stupid façade! The Church is trying so hard to bring this country back to peace and goodness but the _fucking_ higher-ups and _Rufus_- dear Gods, that idiotic president has to _go_!"

"Is this really how you feel, or is this the influence talking?"

The blonde man paused but he couldn't concentrate fully on the question. It was like the line between his mind and his mouth had snapped and a new wire had been fixed from his heart to his tongue.

"Of course this is how I feel, damn it! Haven't you been listening? The Military is full of corrupt _dogs_ just climbing over each other's corpses trying to crawl their way to the top! If it wasn't for the greed and vanity of man there would never be a civil war."

Leon tossed him a scathing look over his shoulder before directing his gaze back onto the sun-bleached highway they were riding on. The barren, cracked lands around Hollow Bastion had bled into flat fields of golden wheat and thriving crops, growing larger and more vibrant the further they traveled north. The fields and the road both ahead and behind were eerily empty, though. They'd only passed one supply truck in the last few hours of riding and it was enlightening to see the peoples' silent fear of the Military. Which Cloud voiced, of course.

After a while, Leon cut through one of his drawn-out rants about the sins and sleaze of the Turks- but how Reno was so good despite the despicable group he ran with- with an interested question that stopped Cloud dead.

"What about Sephiroth? You've only said something positive about me and Reno, who you barely know I thought, but what do you think about the General?"

Many thoughtless moments passed in which Cloud's heart cried out with emotion and indiscernible words. But he knew exactly what it was saying, and his mouth was opening before his brain could shriek for him to STOP.

"Sephiroth's heart is good. I know it is, his mind is just not so great. I could never hurt him though; I love him as much as I hate him, and I hate him enough to want to kill him sometimes but I would never really do that of course. Is it wrong of me to think that? But right and wrong doesn't really count when it comes to Sephiroth. He's on an entirely different level, isn't he? Something could be considered wrong but if he did it it would suddenly be right and good and acceptable. But that's okay since he tries to help people. He has practically the same amount of power as Rufus Shinra but never abuses it. I think that's why I fell in love with him. I think that's why it kills me to even think about revealing my association with Aerith and Zack and the whole Church resilience to him. I think that's why I go insane when I try to plan a way to get him on my side; on the Church's side. What do you think, Leon?"

The brunette didn't answer, and didn't say another word the entire way to the North Branch HQ. He ignored Cloud's continuous ramblings and finally pulled to a stop when the massive skyscrapers and few colossal but squat buildings came into view. Cloud barely noticed that they had stopped and just kept talking, climbing off of the bike after Leon. He only halted when a sharp pain shot through his neck, and stared into stormy gray eyes in confusion.

Leon was talking, and so he focused on the lips, deciphering the words that reached his ears after a few moments, "- you probably don't understand me right now, but this is for the best, Cloud. I'm not going to let your secrets be revealed, alright? You'll feel better when you wake up, I promise."

The blonde didn't understand. He only knew that his limbs were becoming heavy and his entire being felt hazy and stifled. His eyes fluttered shut and the last thing he felt was a pair of strong arms catching him carefully.

He dreamt of explosions and a vibrant gold dome enclosing a giant city of light and flowers. As fire, belting smoke, and twisted metal crawled over the golden barrier, people ran through the streets, crying out and ducking away from the deafening sounds and scrambling across the shuddering streets. He dreamt he was standing just inside the wall of energy, above a small prone body trembling on the ground. He saw the boy's fingertips digging into the earth and heard the weak cries tearing from a winded throat. He heard the fire screaming just feet away, only separated from the boy by a weakening barrier. He felt the heat of the flames and the desperation that was seeping from the brunette on the quaking ground. He smelled burning metal and the sickening waft of burning flesh coming from the wreckage building up on the walls of the dome.

He saw the army of Military vehicles grind to a halt when the first twenty or so trucks and cycles didn't break through the protective gold. He saw troops with heavy artillery filtering out of the vehicles and sprinting towards the mess of shattered metal and crumpled and broken bodies. He saw how the familiar boy's muscles trembled and the concentration clouding the brunette's deathly pale face.

Cloud crouched down next to the boy and grasped the thin arms, pulling the teenager up onto his knees, but he couldn't tear the grasping hands from the dirt. Sky-blue eyes lifted and locked onto Cloud's darker cobalt as the blonde clutched small shoulders with resolve.

"Cloud Strife?" A small, shocked voice murmured.

"You're going to be okay, Sora." Cloud whispered faithfully, smiling at the drained Angel before him, "You just need to hold on. Riku won't let you fail. He won't fail you."

A watery smile stretched thin lips and Sora nodded briskly, "Thanks, Cloud. You should get back to yourself now, before you get lost."

Feeling as if he understood every single thing that was going on, when logically he knew he had no idea about anything, he nodded somberly and closed his eyes against Sora's trusting smile.

When he opened them once more, he was staring at a head of long silver hair bent over a desk in despair. Hands were tangled in the silky strands in a clear sign of frustration, and Cloud started at the broken appearance of an undeniably un-breakable man.

"Sephiroth?"

The General didn't look up. After a few more seconds the man sighed and picked up the phone on the familiar desk. Cloud witnessed the several seconds of waiting and observed the conflicted poison green eyes of the soldier he was so conflicted about.

"Doctor Even, have they arrived yet?"

Cloud stepped forward and rapped on the desk twice. Sephiroth didn't give any indication that he noticed.

"I see… no, I don't need to talk to Colonel Leonhart, thank you. Just contact me when he's woken. Yes. No, I haven't. Goodbye, doctor."

The phone was set down and those long, elegant hands were splayed over the paper-laden desk as Sephiroth inhaled and exhaled deeply. Cloud reached forward tentatively, placing his hand over one of the tense ones.

"Cloud…"

His eyes snapped up in shock, but Sephiroth looked as if he was staring through the blonde, rather than at him. Cloud still withdrew his hand cautiously.

"Sephiroth?"

"What am I supposed to do with you, Cloud?"

The words were so heartfelt and agonized that the younger soldier's heart stuttered in response. The ever-so-powerful General was speaking so softly and tenderly about him- low and insignificant Cloud Strife. The puppet master was ruminating deeply over the puppet. Sephiroth looked back down and Cloud blinked.

When his eyes opened this time, though, he was staring up at a stark white ceiling that shone brightly with false light, making him wince under the onslaught of pain daggering into his skull. A steady beeping was coming from the left somewhere close to where he lay on a completely starched white bed and under sheets. Unlike the strange dream-like awakenings before, he could feel his wounds pulsating dully. Probably numbed with some kind of medication, but he could pinpoint the gunshots with excruciating accuracy. He hadn't noticed it before, on the way to the North, and he wondered at that curiously.

And then he remembered with total clarity every word he'd said to Leon.

"Shit." He whispered, eyes widening and darting around the room. He had to get out. Surely by now Squall would have told someone about his betrayal.

Sitting up was harder than it should have been, harder than he thought it would be, but he fought against the straining pain around his wounds and was upright, panting lightly, within a minute. Shaking, his hands grasped the side of the bed and he swung his body around, letting the bottoms of his feet flatten against the ice-cold flooring of what looked like a hospital room. The machines that were hooked up to him were swiftly disconnected, only making him wince when he had to pull tubes out of his veins. The walls were white and blank, with a rack of medical supplies lining one wall and a sink and countertop on the other. The wall with the door was almost completely made of glass, but there were blinds on the inside that were shuttered closed for privacy. Cloud glanced at the machines surrounding the bed and barely heard the high squeals of protest they were giving. Mindlessly, he leaned down to rip the cords from the wall, breath stuttering as the shock of pressure on his abdomen swept through him.

His mind went hazy and his body slumped to the floor so hard his head spun. The room that he could see was spinning, and he could see three hands where he knew there should have only been one facing the ceiling, limp and empty-palmed. A whoosh of air met his ears and was followed by a strangled growl he knew all too well.

That one familiarity gave him the strength to push himself onto his elbows, twisting his body to look towards the door, but Leon was already kneeling over him, strong hands grasping his upper arms and pulling him onto his knees, just as he had done with Sora what seemed like moments ago.

"Damn it, Cloud, what the hell is wrong with you!"

"I don't like hospitals." Cloud snapped as the scarred man helped him back onto the bed, though he couldn't be persuaded to lie down. He sat on the edge and stared up at Leon, suddenly remembering why he had felt so much urgency to get out. Leon knew. Who had he told so far? Cloud needed to get Reno and get out of the East as soon as possible. Gods damn that foolish Clandestine! What the hell did she think she was doing, influencing him like that? Now the whole plan was fucked. The decade-long plan that had been moving along so perfectly before those Gods damned Clandestines stepped in, completely ruined.

But Leon was talking again, and he resolved to lament about the wreckage of the Church's golden opportunity later- once he was away from the Military.

"We're not in a hospital, dumbass. We're at North HQ. Vexen already injected you with some kind of serum that should have cancelled out the Clandestine influence. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Cloud murmured, much more subdued, "…serum?"

Leon shrugged, shifting his weight onto one leg and crossing his arms in a comfortably uncomfortable looking stance, "Doctor Even said it was a mixture of chemicals that restored balance to your brain. Unfortunately, that means the Clandestine influence on your body is gone as well, so it'll take a while longer for you to heal."

"Right."

They stayed silent for a few too-long minutes, in which Cloud's eyes were locked on the floor as his mind cranked at a hundred miles per hour, going through every situation he could think of as to how he was going to get himself and Reno out of this alive. It wasn't looking good. Leon just watched him, gaze flickering over his body and face as if trying to gauge his thoughts or the level of pain he was feeling.

The typically easy silence was quickly becoming awkward for the first time ever, so the blonde soldier was relieved when the door swung open once more to admit Doctor Even himself in a floor-length white lab coat and trusty clipboard tucked into the crook of his arm. Long platinum hair was surprisingly groomed back into a ponytail and shined cleanly in the light. A usual lined and twisted face was practically glowing with health and vitality, crazed emerald eyes were sharp but with more intelligence than insanity. Cloud had to wonder what had happened recently for the scientist to go through such a dramatic transformation. Whatever it was, though, the blonde hoped it continued. For once, Vexen looked human.

And damn did those eyes seem to actually glimmer when they took in Cloud's state, and thin lips flickered as if in an attempt at smiling.

"Brigadier Strife. It's wonderful to see you awake and already in extreme throes of panic. I assure you that everything with you is going well, your recovery should be fast if you decide to enjoy your promotion time here with my medicines. Also, the attacks on the Military have all been wrapped up. There's no reason to concern yourself over the state of the war right this moment, although I would like to talk with you later about what you went through under influence. As I have already discussed with your friend here, the Clandestine people have so many sneaky ways of getting into a person's head, and Gods know what that woman did to yours. Hopefully the connection is broken but I would like to monitor you for the next two or three days to be sure."

Cloud could only nod, puzzled and shocked at the 180 turn everything just took. So… he wasn't going to be thrown in front of a fire squad? He was in the clear? Vexen was talking bullshit, he knew that, but why would he…?

"There's also a few someones here to see you." The doctor smirked ironically and opened the door once more, waving to the 'someones' in the hall.

Leon stepped back to the side of the bed, shuffling out of the way so that there could be more maneuverability space in the small room. Three people filed in past the doctor, making Cloud's eyebrows rise more and more at the sight. First came Reno, who immediately went to his bedside and sneered almost angrily, and then came Axel Sinclair, following close behind his brother. From the rear came Roxas, with a test-tube shaped vial of what looked like blood hanging from a chain around his neck, nestling right over where his heart would be. It looked like he was doing a lot better than what Cloud had last heard.

No one said a word, so Vexen once more broke the silence by motioning Leon out of the room, saying something about needing him to sign papers. When the door closed behind the two, Reno finally greeted Cloud with a palm to the side of his head.

"What the hell was that for?" the blonde snapped rubbing at his temple in agitation and straightening back up from the blow, glaring at his ally darkly.

Gray-blue eyes flashed and arms crossed tightly in uncharacteristic somberness, "Dumb shit, you almost got yourself killed!"

"Running in the middle of a group of Clandestine commanders is suicide, got it memorized?" said Reno's little brother, whose poison-green eyes were just as sharp as the Turk's.

Cloud jerked back at the words and emotion in the young man's eyes, stunned that Axel cared when they hadn't even really met each other. And then Roxas, the odd one out, spoke up quietly,

"I'm glad you're alright, sir. I've heard that you were keeping tabs on Axel and I for Reno, so I'd like to say thanks."

Sapphire eyes met shadowy cobalt for a few moments before Cloud nodded slightly to the teenager, trying to keep his head straight in all the sudden confusion. He just woke up and this was almost too much to handle at the moment. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself enough to turn on Reno.

"Sinclair, what's going on here?"

He didn't have to say more; his ally of a almost half a decade understood immediately. Reno waved dismissively at Axel and Roxas, but the hand motion completely belied his words,

"I came to conduct investigation of the break-in here previous to the most recent attack, and ended up running into these idiots. After Roxas started gettin' better, and with the amount of investigation now goin' on over the Clandestine follow-up of the Church assault, I'm pretty much stuck here with 'em for now. It's given the three of us plenty of time to talk, too."

Cloud analyzed the subtle slang usage within the Turk's words and narrowed his eyes when he recognized it as a sign of nervousness. The redhead's drawn-out city drawl almost shielded it completely, but Cloud hadn't gotten to the point he was at by being inattentive, "Reno…"

"What?! I couldn't help it; my own little brother called me a filthy dog of the Military that heeled on command! What the hell was I supposed to do?"

"Not give everything away!" the blonde was yelling now, pushing himself to his feet unsteadily so that he could get in the slum rat's face.

"Oi, Cloud."

He rounded on Axel angrily, swaying only a little with the movement. The younger Sinclair was staring at him soberly, a protective hand firmly attached to Roxas's shoulder.

Before he could utter a single thing, Axel dipped his head slightly, meeting his eyes with a fierceness that Cloud had yet to see in the older brother, "We're a part of your secret now, got it? So get over it. If it means protecting Roxas, and my stupid brother, then I'm all in. I've already gone too far now to do anything else, so don't even think about telling me to mind my own business. This is my business now."

Cloud stared him down, then Roxas, then Reno, and couldn't think of a single thing to say. They had found their allies in the North. So he just nodded respectfully, sitting back down on the bed.

"So… what now?" Roxas asked it in such a bland, uninterested way that the Brigadier just about failed to notice the note of apprehension that the words were carried with.

Reno hummed, humor lighting in his eyes once more as the tense moment passed, "Well, Roxas, you're still recovering, Cloud is about as useful as a chocobo with a broken leg" at this Cloud stiffened indignantly, but the redhead rolled on without apology "and there's still a hell of a lot of paperwork to do here. So, to answer your question, I think we're going to be stuck here for a while yet. Which gives us the chance to just relax for now. Sound good?"

No one could object to that, and with a dramatic cheer Reno threw himself onto the medical bed, jostling Cloud and receiving a deserved smack to the head. Axel and Roxas just smiled. After almost a half an hour of relaxation and mild conversation, Cloud finally voiced the question he'd been wondering about since he first woke up.

"Reno, why is everyone calling me 'Brigadier' and 'sir'?"

**AN: Next chapter- Demyx and Axel. Finally, one of the pairings will come together. :) I'll get to writing when I can, but with school starting it may take a little while longer than usual. I promise to update AT LEAST once every two weeks, though. Hopefully things will be easier now that the story is up that hill and the wheels are steadily approaching that sudden decline. You know the one; the fast rush of plot that seems to be on paper before you even have a chance to think it through. That's the best part. Leave me a review if you wanna, if you don't then I suppose I'll imagine a review you would have written. :D Thank you, see you next chapter! **


	13. Dangerous Devices

**AN: Chapter eleven is finally out! I cannot believe it took me this long to finish it and I am so sorry to my followers and readers! But to make up for the passage of time, I tried to make a lighter, hopefully laugh-worthy reprieve. Better than last chapter, I hope. Enjoy~! :)**

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Dangerous Devices

Axel wasn't happy at all. In fact, he was quite pissed off as he strode through the halls of North HQ, memo clenched into a twist of ravaged parchment in his fist. Privates and officers alike scrambled out of his way, ducking against the walls and watching him pass with wide eyes, obviously having been witness to his little display of power that last time with the Clandestines. He paid them no mind, poison eyes forward and narrowed as he silently fumed, feet hitting the tile floors heavily, draining only ounces of the fury he was feeling.

When he reached his destination, he wasted no time in slamming the door open and letting it shut just as loudly behind him. His prey was seated at a desk, hastily flipping through papers, apparently in search of something.

"I promise, it's here somewhere, I just…" the man seemed to be speaking to himself, making Axel raise a brow and cross his arms tightly over his chest, still clawing his way through the paper in his hand.

"Vexen." He snapped to get the scientist's attention. Surprised emerald eyes flew up to meet his, and he continued with just as much venom in his voice, "I expect you to do something about this. I didn't even think you'd allow it to get as far as me."

Thin brows wrinkled, "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, Major Sinclair."

"This," he sneered, striding over to plant the memo in front of the man solidly, body tense and coiled with seething emotions as he took a step back once more, "is what I am talking about, asshole. What the fuck is this?"

The older man read it over in a matter of seconds, staring back up at Axel with a stiff frown, "I had no knowledge of this, Major, I assure you."

Axel was bewildered now. It wasn't a question that Vexen knew everything that was going to happen even before the people doing it knew. "What the hell have you been doing, Doc? You usually know about things like this before the paper's printed. Has the radio antenna in your head malfunctioned or something?"

There was a noise to the right, behind the redhead, and he whirled around in a flash. A teenager was standing there with a hand over his mouth, his face partially covered by a swathe of slate colored hair. The pale gray-blue eye that Axel could see, though, was sparkling with amusement.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Axel barked, bristling at the sudden appearance of the kid.

"A fetus, naturally, as do we all. I assume you know how an infant is made and delivered into the world, so I will not go into further detail," at the Major's acidic glare, he sighed loudly, "I was standing here when you so rudely charged in."

"Major Sinclair, this is my past associate, Zexion Ienzo." Vexen had risen and went to stand beside the boy, putting a hand on the small shoulder almost protectively.

Axel observed how the boy shifted uncomfortably from the contact, and scanned his eyes over the kid. He had to be younger than eighteen still, and had a pathetically fragile-looking body that made him look perfectly like a scientist. His skin was rather tan, though, so he must do some kind of outdoor activity. If he was similar to Marluxia, gardening. A black hooded cloak wrapped around his shoulders and zipped in the front to fall all the way down to the tops of scuffed black boots, but just the slightest flash of white could be seen under the high black collar. Overall, there were particles of sand caught in the folds of his clothing and in his hair, which looked windswept and unruly. He must've been in the desert then. Vexen's _former_ colleague was probably working some secret mission in the West. Unfortunate, since the kid was still so young.

"Zexion, this is Major Axel Sinclair, Roxas's right-hand man."

"I'd say it was the other way around." Axel mumbled, ire soothed for the time being. He was sure Vexen would clear up that nonsense. There was no way the doctor was going to allow Axel to leave Roxas's side for now, since he was all the kid had in the world at the moment. Those orders calling him back into action were bullshit, and like hell he was going on another mission to the West already. Not when the rest of the Military was in such a state of chaos.

Wait… "You've been talking about Roxas behind our backs?" And just like that, Axel was on fire once more, hands curling and ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Neither Zexion nor Vexen looked in the least bit threatened.

Vexen shrugged cordially, "Zexion here is our best chance right now in figuring out Roxas's little… dilemma. He's brought the reading material I require. I was looking for the text I'm going to exchange for it when you interrupted."

So he wasn't talking to himself. Oh well, tomorrow always brings another chance for the scientist to finally reach insanity. Vexen went back over to the desk, as if reminded that he was indeed looking for something.

"Speaking of which," Zexion urged passively, "will you hurry up and find that book? The one I have right here is becoming a little heavy. I may just have to set it down… maybe here."

The teenager stepped closer to the door and held out a relatively small book that Axel hadn't noticed before. It hovered between two fingers over a hulking incinerator- put there in case of dangerous chemical spills, so that clothing could be shed and taken care of right away.

"No! No, no, no, Zexion, I have it here somewhere, I know it!"

Axel raised his brows at that; Vexen begging. It was amusing, but the soldier couldn't enjoy the irony since that book was important to him as well.

The teen's single visible brow rose infinitesimally at the older scientist's pleading expression, "I told you to have your affairs in order by the time I arrived, did I not, Doctor Even?"

"You did, and I did, but I got sidetracked with Cloud and the rest of these buffoons."

Buffoons? That wasn't nice.

"I do not care, Doctor. It is a book; it should not be so easy to misplace."

"Dearest Zexion, I thought you knew me?"

As he watched the smirk crawl over Zexion's lips, Axel felt suddenly like he was standing right in the middle of some intimate inside-joke, and he wanted nothing more than to quickly _step out_. But he still had matters more important than his discomfort keeping him stubbornly in place. He was getting tired of all this eloquent talk though. Gods, did they grow up in a lab? _Oh, wait… they did, didn't they?_

"Vexen," he gritted out slowly, crossing his arms tightly, "will you just take care of that bullshit before I decide to set your desk on fire?"

"Yes, yes, I will! Will you just get out of here before I call Security? You're interrupting my time with my cute little Zexy."

Now both Axel's brows were up and his jaw went slack.

ONE:

Vexen _seriously_ thought Security could force him to do something? Who the hell was the old man trying to impress?

TWO:

What the _fuck_ did he just call this practically pre-pubescent _kid_?

Deciding he did not want to know, hear, or for Gods' sake _see_ anything more, Axel backpedaled out of the room, shutting the door against Vexen's grin and Zexion's furious blush. He stood in the corridor a few moments, still in mild shock, before setting off in a random direction towards the front of the building. He figured he should probably get back to Roxas, seeing how the little blonde was all alone with the bigger, scarier blonde, but he needed to collect himself first.

He was just tired. Yeah. He didn't really hear Vexen's twisted show of affection for an underage teenager. That was it; he mistook the words. Maybe Vexen just slurred. No, the scientist's words were always precise and clear.

He shook his head violently to clear it, stumbling a little because of the action and inadvertently walking into someone. He quickly caught his balance and was about to snap at whoever had come into his path, even if it was technically his fault, but paused when the thud of that someone hitting the ground was joined with a feline-like yowl of protest.

His eyes trailed down curiously and he blinked at the young man that now lay at his feet. The blonde stared wide-eyed up at him and clamored onto his elbows, but appeared to be too frightened or something to pick himself up. The hair was what got Axel first; that… was it a Mohawk or a mullet? Something in-between? Then he was staring, awed, at those deep, crystalline-emerald pools that ringed around dilated pupils. The blonde looked a little younger than him, and had a boyishly pretty, narrow face with large features set into a state of surprise and trepidation. He was wearing the same outfit as Vexen's friend Zexion, and when he'd fallen Axel got a glance at the stark whiteness of cloth under the black leather cloak. He was so unusual, and… so beautiful. Something about the blonde made Axel want to lay down and curl his body around him, almost like that Guardian had done to Sora all those weeks ago. Warmth flared in Axel's heart and face, so shocking a feeling that he stood dumb for many long seconds. It was so rare that the soldier felt any warmth on the inside, and too often that he felt it scorching on his hands and along his arms on the outside.

Shaking himself after nearly half a minute of stunned silence, he reached out a hand to the young man, murmuring a small, almost non-existent apology as he did so. The blonde hesitated, but finally gave a meek grin and accepted the hand. And oh _Gods_ how Axel's heart soared when they touched. He scowled at his own body's ridiculous reactions to the situation and tried to ignore it, but a funny look had come over the younger man's face. Something between shock and dread and unadulterated adoration.

"U-um, I'm uh, I…"

_Oh Gods, his _voice_! _Axel was ready to weep at the intensity of the heat and emotion bursting in his chest. But he forced himself to meet those emerald eyes, only flinching slightly when the blonde collected himself and spoke again. The rest of the world had long since drained away, the racket of the soldiers around them fading away into the gray.

"I'm Demyx, I came here with Zexion. He's a friend of mine. Well, more than a friend, really, we're like… I guess you could call us brothers but not by blood, by uh- what's the word?- anyway, you know the word, I know the word somewhere in my head but I can't get a hold of it right now, but anyway, yeah, we're like that kind of brother. So Zexion's a friend of this doctor dude that's supposed to be here, Doctor Evan something or other, and he just ran off and left me to go talk to him and Vincent went away with this other guy- hey, he looked a lot like you actually. Oh, it is you! Where'd you take Vincent? 'Cause y'know, I'm not supposed to be alone, Zack would beat me to a pulp and then kill Zexion and then lynch Vincent and then we'd all be dead and I wouldn't be able to go home and I just _really want to go home_!"

"…what?"

"You're that rude redheaded dude, right? You have to be: he looked just like you! Where'd you put your goggles? And your hair? And the tattoos… well anyway, I want Vincent back NOW!"

"Whoa," Axel held up his hands, backing up a step when the blonde advanced, trying to ignore that urge at the back of his mind that was screaming KISS HIM, shaking his head innocently, "you've got the wrong Sinclair, the goggle-headed guy is Reno. Reno's my older brother. I'm Axel, got it memorized?"

Damn it. Why the hell did that stupid age-old catchphrase pop into his head? Old habits die hard, he supposed. But he couldn't think straight. He was staring at the pout that the blonde fell into and _oh shit don't do that, please don't do that, Gods damn it why the hell do I feel like this!_

It was like how he felt with Roxas, but a million times stronger. An inner instinct to protect, the most irresistible urge to hold, the terribly agonizing warmth that seared through him, stronger than any flames he'd ever conjured before.

"Hold on a sec," He managed to say, turning away a bit so that he could take a few steadying breaths in an attempt to calm his livid heart. Then he pulled the small portable radio- as old as that stupid catchphrase- from his belt and used deft fingers to click it to channel eight. He raised it to his lips, ignoring how the blonde was now staring at the device curiously, his thumb clicked onto a button and planted itself there, "Reno, this is Axel. Where the hell are you?"

He let the button go and listened to the static the channel was emitting, waiting impatiently before pressing the button again, "Yo, asshole, I asked you a fucking question, I expect a fucking answer."

He let go and the static cut out almost immediately after.

"What's that mean?"

He _almost_ jumped when the green-eyed son of a bitch spoke over his shoulder nervously.

"That means he disconnected the channel. Which means I'm going to kill that scrawny little bastard."

Axel ignored the sniggering and flicked the radio to another channel, "Captain Arlene."

"Yeah? What do you want?"

He rolled his eyes at her sarcastic tone, "Have you seen Reno anywhere?"

"Lemme think- no. I'm not his damn babysitter, Axel. Got it memorized?"

Ignoring the taunt, he switched to yet another channel, "Hey Luxord…"

About ten channels later he gave up, slamming the radio back onto his belt with unnecessary force.

"Sorry, kid," he sighed as he turned back to the blonde, "I can't find him anywhere. This Vincent guy. Why was my brother so interested in him?"

"I dunno, Reno just came sprinting up to us, looked at him for like two seconds, and then dragged him away. He knew his name and everything! Vincent didn't even fight it! It was weird."

Axel's eyes narrowed. Why would Reno act that way? Was this Vincent guy secretly a member of the Church or something? But then why wouldn't his stupid brother just say so over the radio- it wasn't like their lines were being tapped by Saix or Xemnas. That kind of stupid shit ended years ago.

He supposed it didn't really matter. He had more important things to do. His eyes caught on the blonde and yet again his heart betrayed him by acting like an eager puppy begging for a treat.

"What's your name, kid?"

Emerald eyes widened and Axel watched with interest as the blonde shifted as if discomfited, "M-my name? Why?"

"Because I want to know?" Axel drawled slowly, smirking at the blush that sprang onto the man's pale cheeks.

"Oh, uh… Demyx."

"No last name?"

"Not one that matters."

Hm. Demyx acted like a total ditz before, but he obviously had some intelligence buried under all that bubbly spunk.

So… there was a problem at hand. Axel _could_ offer to take Demyx to Zexion… but he wasn't going to. He was intrigued with the civilian and couldn't help but want to spend some more time with him. Besides, his heart was crying at the thought of leaving the kid's side, and he wasn't about to become a masochist like Roxas.

How to keep Demyx's attention for the next however many hours he had, then?

"Well, since your friends abandoned you all on your lonesome, why don't I be your chaperone? We can go look for my brother and your friend." He added the last part quickly after seeing Demyx's uneasy expression.

"Okay, I guess so." Demyx nodded and began hesitantly following Axel when he began walking, unable to stop from looking over his shoulder at the blonde.

And his heart stuttered hotly once more.

†

Zexion, Demyx, and Vincent arrived at North HQ in various states of exhaustion, though Zexion was the only one that was showing it. Demyx could feel it as a bone-deep ache but just kept smiling as they passed through security with ease. Vincent had explained to him back in the desert that no one was actually listed as traitors unless they presented a serious threat. Genesis and Angeal, for example, had been on the Military's top most wanted list for years. But if people like Zexion, Vincent, Cid and the like were labeled as deserters, it would only encourage others of like mind to leave. And so everyone who had suspiciously disappeared was explained away as on top secret missions. That's not to say that the Turks aren't looking for the deserters, no, they would eventually find out about their little trip to North HQ, but by the time they got wind of it they would be long gone.

And so the blonde kept a positive smile glued to his face as they walked through the huge skyscraper's corridors, feeling perfectly out of his element. As soon as they had come from the desert and Zexion led them to a highway with ease, Demyx could already see the top of the impossibly tall, enormously wide skyscraper in the distance. The closer they got, the more the Angel's blood seemed to be dancing in his veins, unsettled and disturbed by the unfamiliarity of the present situation. It all just seemed too unreal. Too different from the rolling hills and dense forest of the West. It was all fields here, and ridiculously luxurious buildings and comforts that Demyx wasn't used to seeing. He had to struggle to maintain a semi-normal appearance when all he wanted to do was gawk at everything around him. Even the sliding, mechanical glass doors gained his attention so much that Vincent had to casually nudge him from his fixation more than once.

Not long after they had entered the amazing structure, though, Zexion was shifting in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety after they boarded the glass elevator. A few soldiers were in there with them, but seemed oblivious to their existence, so Demyx didn't understand why his Guardian was being so antsy. It couldn't be the elevator or the fact that they could see the ground- already a hundred feet below. The teenager was obviously used to it, was even leaning bravely against the glass wall.

Of course, Demyx was most certainly _not_ clinging to Vincent and whimpering at a barely audible decibel. Once they passed perhaps the fortieth floors, the elevator stopped and the doors swished open into a clinically immaculate white marble hall and the blonde hurtled onto the solid, sure ground gratefully.

A quiet laugh sounded behind him; one of the soldiers had stopped on his way past and was grinning with understanding.

"Is it your first time in North HQ?"

Demyx only gulped and nodded, aware that Vincent Valentine's fierce eyes were burning through the material of his black cloak. Well, he couldn't help it! It's not like he asked for attention, it just locked on him like a nasty leech and wouldn't let go until his whole body was drained of blood.

The silver-haired soldier patted the Angel's shoulder condolingly, "Don't worry; you'll get used to it after the fourth or fifth time."

Thankfully, the man didn't stick around to chat it up, and instead just continued on with the slightest of smiles still shadowing his lips. For just a fraction of a moment, Demyx admired and almost envied the pristine scarlet-red uniform jacket and slacks that the man wore. It was one thing to see hundreds of the uniforms milling below his feet while in the elevator, but being able to focus on one up close was astounding. Countless medals and ribbons had adorned the man's shoulders and jacket lapels, and the clothing had fit him with a trim balance that was admirable in its aura of strict formality. So much shimmering metal… all those accomplishments and prideful triumphs displayed on an outfit that said you belonged to somewhere. Who wouldn't envy that, if only a little bit?

"That was General Xemnas."

He jumped at Vincent's growl of a voice, surprised to hear amusement instead of anger in the deep, hollow tones. Then the words hit him. He swooned, jaw going slack and face paling dangerously. He could hear the voices already shouting, 'he's fainted, get a medic!'. But no, Vincent cuffed him over the side of the head before he could go into a dramatic state of comatose delirium.

And Zexion wasn't even moved. He just stood there, nibbling unconsciously on his lower lip and crossing then uncrossing his arms sporadically. His eyes were distant as he stared down the hallway leading to the right, not even glancing in the other direction. When Demyx laid a concerned hand on his shoulder, though, the boy snapped right out of it and sharp eyes looked up into his.

"You okay there, Zex?"

"Fine, Demyx. I just… you two should wait here for me. I will retrieve the text from Doctor Even before I introduce you to him. If he becomes interested in either one of you I may never be able to pry him away long enough to fetch the book. I should be back within half an hour, so just wait around here, got it?"

"Gotcha! Hurry up, though, I wanna see the super-fancy dorm rooms you've told me about! It'll be like a little vacation!" Demyx grinned, waving after Zexion, who had scuttled off without responding to the comment.

He then whirled on Vincent, who was also looking after Zexion with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Vincent? What's wrong?"

"Nothing…"

The ex-Turk met Demyx's eyes, so the Angel could see the questions and worries in them clearly. He smiled and opened his mouth to say something- anything- that would lighten up the Turk-man-gone-vampire-dude again, but hadn't been able to get a single word out before a form came sprinting up the hallway so fast and silent that Demyx jumped out of his skin when someone was suddenly beside him, an elbow planted on his shoulder as its owner doubled over and gasped for breath.

"Vincent… Valentine…!"

Demyx glanced between the two in confusion, seeing Vincent's puzzled expression, and again, couldn't get a word in before the redhead had reached out and actually grabbed Vincent's gauntleted arm, hauling him away without hesitation. Demyx was too stunned to even think of following. Vincent didn't even look back as he was dragged away, already tilting his head to listen to what the redhead was murmuring to him in quiet pants. And so Demyx stood alone in the hallway, stepping out of the way of groups of soldiers, completely at a loss.

No, he wasn't supposed to be left on his own! Panic was building to a crescendo in his chest and head, and he began to blindly walk down the corridor toward where Zexion had disappeared, hands clenched and cradled to his chest. He suddenly felt too exposed, too small in the large space that could easily accommodate twelve men shoulder-to-shoulder across. People passed with folders and papers and coffee in hand, scarlet red all around. Voices echoed and mingled into incomprehensible murmurs in his ears as he walked, and the colors began to blur.

He was alone in the middle of enemy territory. In the middle of a Military base. Alone.

He ducked his head down, irrationally thinking that these men would take one look at his face or his eyes and somehow _know_. And so he was too frightened to stop and ask where the labs were, or where he could find Doctor Even. He just kept moving in muted terror.

He didn't understand at first how he had ended up on the ground. And he didn't understand much after that either when he instinctively looked up and into poison-green eyes full of acidic emotion. He was still stunned when he took the man's proffered hand, but then everything came into abrupt sharp focus, and he could smell fire and rain and heat and soothing coolness of a foggy morning in a dying summer. And all he could see were those eyes.

And he didn't know what he was feeling or why, but he did know one thing for sure.

Axel, as he soon knew him to be called, was no ordinary soldier. There was death and fire cloaking him in invisible chains, but there was something else there. Demyx could only think of it as a glowing keyhole centered in a cast-iron lock amidst the chains. Something in the soldier was being suppressed- something bright and golden and pure.

That didn't explain the sudden emotions that had struck them both simultaneously however. As soon as they had touched it was like that golden, fire-smothered purity had raced straight into the Angel's veins and seared a path to his heart, infecting every blood vessel and nerve in the path of that inferno.

Because of this, Demyx was both nervous and juvenilely excited to be following Axel around the fifty-second floor of the Military's Research and Development Headquarters. After awhile of no contact, though, Demyx was beginning to relax, and couldn't help but admire Axel's skills as a tour guide. The soldier explained each floor's purpose, only cropping about thirty floors out of his monologue, and pointed out certain rooms to the blonde as they passed the closed and locked doorways.

"The next eight floors after this one are all offices and meeting rooms, which are usually unoccupied since most of the lazy bastards here are too lazy and bastardly to walk to the elevator and push a button. My buddies and I use them as makeshift bars instead. Bring enough alcohol and music and some of those rooms can almost be considered clubs."

That, and the sublime smirk Axel through him had Demyx chuckling softly beneath his breath, still not relaxed enough for his real personality to shine through. Even though something was telling him he could trust the redhead, Vincent's cautioning words were resonating through his head every time he opened up his mouth to speak.

"So yeah, those floors are my favorite besides the dorms, but my partner's favorites are the thirty seventh: Weaponry Development, and the second, the chapel."

Demyx almost stumbled, "There's a chapel here?"

Axel gave him a strange look that made the Angel want to swallow those words back down, "Of course there's a chapel. Haven't you been to a Military HQ before?"

After shaking his head, he began to realize that he had caught himself in a web. But Axel merely smiled a bit and turned his head back around to face forward, "Well, that's just it, then, isn't it. It always comes down to the conflict of this idiotic civil war. The chapel was here before the war started, and it would bring down the entire structure if they removed it, so they left it be. Over the decades there's been a lot of talk of changing it into another store room or office, but it's never seriously considered. Funny and ironic enough, a lot of soldiers go to the chapel religiously. At least that shows that not all of the Military have turned their back on faith in our Gods."

The Angel kept his face down, pressing his lips together to keep from speaking, to keep from demanding _why. Why, if there were so many soldiers praying and believing, did the Military have the upper hand still? Why did so many people believe in the Gods, but still were on the side of the tainted and misled?_

_ That's it, isn't it. They're all misled. I've heard the stories from Zack, Genesis, and Angeal, I've just never thought about it before now. The Military makes it look like the Church are just a bunch of crazy, religious lunatics out for blood and wearing the supposed false mask of justice to do it._

By Axel's bitter smirk, Demyx could almost believe that he was travelling down a similar train of thought. But then…

"Why are you here, Axel?"

The redhead turned with surprise, actually stopping in the center of the marble corridor to stare down at Demyx. Vibrant lime darted between brilliant emerald, searching for something. Apparently he found it, and leaned forward slightly so that he was at eye-level with the blonde. Head tilted, cherry-red spikes of feathery hair fell starkly over thin cheeks and the suddenly serious expression.

"Why, Demyx?" the Angel's shoulders shook under the extreme gaze and softly spoken words, "Because I had nothing else. I have nothing else. And because I have someone I need to protect. You understand, don't you?"

_"Can you forgive me?"_

Demyx startled but regained composure after a moment, finally able to smile fully and sincerely for his new companion, "Having someone to protect is the one thing I think I really do understand, Axel."

_Yes, I can forgive you._

"Well then, do you want to check it out?"

Demyx cocked his head, "Check what out?"

"The chapel, dimwit." Demyx whined in protest when a hand ruffled his hair roughly.

Pushing the hand away, he couldn't help but grin, "Sure, why not?"

The Angel and the soldier strode down the hall towards an elevator, smiling and talking with each other as if they'd been best friends their entire lives, eyes connected the entire time as they moved with even-paced steps. It was almost like it was meant to be, the Angel thought.

And Demyx forgot all about Zexion and Vincent.

**AN: Whooo. Another one out, thank the Gods. :) This, as you all can probably tell, came out completely raw and un-betaed, so I apologize for any errors and hope that you'll point out the ones that you see so that I can fix them. Anyway, thanks for reading! Sorry it took so long; hopefully I'll be spitting chapters out a little faster than once every ten days.  
Next chapter- switching between Zexion and Sora. I know, I know, finally back to Sora's itty bitty predicament. I need the amusing reprieve at times to balance out the drama, though. :)  
Sooo, how did you like it? I'd love to hear your thoughts on the sad attempt at romance and comedy I tried! **


	14. Misconceptions and Martyrdom

**OHMYGOODNESS I am sooo sorry this took so long to get out. :'( I could give a million and one excuses, but I'll keep my mouth shut so that you can read. Ugh. I get amazing reviewers and then manage to disappoint them and myself. Again, soooooo sorry. On to my dearest reviewers:**

**Define Anonymity: Thanks so much for sticking with the story this long! T.T You've reviewed for every single chapter and I can't thank you enough! Honestly, I'm completely touched that you care so much about this. I just wanted to let you know how much I value your support! Thank you!**

**itsDeniseman: Thank you! :D I'm glad to have a new reviewer, it shows that I have a new reader that likes the story! And no worries, I'm not going to delete it, and it'll get there somehow. xD I'm SUPER GLAD you appreciate the war concept. I was completely unsure of how to go about it at first, and all I'm doing is trying my best and going off of some of my father's war stories (Axel's old mentor is based off one of my father's friends. True story.) As for Sora and Riku and Axel and Roxas, I'm excited that you like their characters. I know they don't have as much depth as I wished for, but appreciation is appreciated. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter. I know it's raw, un-edited, and pretty boring, but it's necessary. /:**

CHAPTER TWELVE: Misconceptions and Martyrdom

Consciousness was like a wispy dream. Like floating, but stuck in the middle of a too-real world. Cool earth under fingers and knees, aching muscles tensed in a forever-locked position, blazing heat from above… no… from in front? Brilliant sky-blue eyes focused further and watched in blank fascination as tongues of red and yellow flickered and danced just feet from his face, separated only by a multicolored wall that stood strong for now, but he could feel the forces wavering in strength.

And he wouldn't be strong enough to reinforce them by himself.

Pain was pulsing up through his legs, centered where his knees were anchored into the gritty dirt, though he could faintly tell that the limbs were completely numb. He couldn't feel where his hands were pressed into the ground, only the cold throbbing sensation that was washing over his shoulders and neck.

Trying to remember how long it had been since he had been in this position, he let his eyes rise further from the safety of the flames and gazed up at the sky in a resigned sort of shock. It was impossibly dark out, with stars sprinkling across the black expanse like so many tiny souls trying to shine down on him and give him strength. At least twelve hours had passed since he first slammed his hands to the earth, he surmised by the placing of the moon.

Where was Riku? Riku was supposed to protect him. He was supposed to chase away the nightmares and be by his side when the brunette needed him. He was supposed to be by his side.

The boy's jaw hardened and he let his glare fall back to the flames and the small mass of soldiers beyond. They just kept coming. They had already let three missiles fly into the dome, to no avail, not to mention the barrage of tanks in the beginning that now lay in broken remains, still on fire with clouds of smoke rising in the sky. What else did they think would work? But they didn't look like they were planning anything; they were just milling about in an almost listless manner, and even from this distance Sora could see some smiles and laughing faces.

**_"Sora… you're not meant to die here."_**

****Practically sneering, the Angel didn't even attempt a response, tunneling his focus back into the barrier so that it began to pulse golden once more. _Just keep pushing, keep concentrating, and for the Gods' sake, do not pass out,_ he repeated to himself like a mantra, rocking a little with the rhythm of the words and keeping his failing eyes locked onto the soldiers that had put their city in danger. Like a charm, his words and the sight of those blood-thirsty men lifted his resolve higher and higher, until he was growling determinedly and looking about.

No one was close by; hopefully they'd all be underground by now. But where were the other Knights? Protecting the people, probably. But surely Terra wouldn't have left Sora alone?

**_"Let the city fall. You cannot die here."_**

****"No!" Sora snarled, fingers curling until he was holding fistfuls of cool dirt, "I'm not gonna let them win! And besides, I think I like going against your expectations. Fate and all that nonsense. You can't decide how I die, how Aerith dies, how Riku dies. You can only take a guess at the future, and I'm sick of hearing your lies. Don't speak to me unless you have something helpful to say."

He could feel the silence in his very soul but ignored it in favor of loosening his hands and taking deep breaths. It seemed like he was like that, in homeostasis, for an eternity and then some, but the sun hadn't yet risen when shouts rose from behind him. Glancing over his shoulder was more difficult a movement than he had expected but he managed it, eyes staring unfocused at the figure he saw sprinting towards him. Blue… Aqua.

The young woman was fast, he realized as she appeared by his side as suddenly as she had shouted to him. Boots skidded to a stop and she was on her knees beside him before he even had time to take another deep breath. Hands settled on his face and he startled at the low swear the Knight uttered.

"Aqua?" He asked, but it came out slurred and barely understandable.

She nodded, bright blue eyes shimmering as they glanced over him quickly, "I can't believe you were holding up the barrier all this time. Terra never got a chance to tell anybody; the tremors knocked out a building and a piece fell on him. He only woke up a few minutes ago. Are you hurt, Sora?"

"Not hurt. Tired. Can't keep it up much longer."

"We managed to get a message through to Zack over a radio a few hours ago, they're probably close by now." Aqua reassured, gripping Sora's shoulders with strong, calloused hands, grounding him in just the way he needed.

He smiled waveringly, noting that the soldiers had finally become aware of Aqua's presence. A small group of about four was heading towards the barrier. Sora stiffened and focused on the intertwining energies, making sure they were strong enough to block out the enemy. Usually the barrier would withhold against anyone with large amounts of gun powder on them, but it sometimes failed. Aqua noticed as well, stiffening beside him and tightening her hold on his shoulder with one hand while the other drifted to hover above the hilt of her sword.

"Don't worry Sora," she murmured in his ear, and he took comfort from the warmth of her breath on his skin, "I'll take care of this."

"Be careful."

"Always." She smiled in her usual gentle yet bright way and stood, letting her touch linger on his shoulder for as long as possible, until the soldiers were just feet away from the barrier a little ways to their left, trying to avoid the flaming metal of destroyed tanks and trucks. Aqua drew her sword and strode from Sora without turning her back to him. She kept her stance wide and he saw the way her eyes flickered back to him every few seconds.

"Aerith Gainsborough?" One of the soldiers called, just a dark silhouette in the cold night with flashing brown eyes and white teeth.

"What do you want?" Aqua shouted back, and Sora was surprised at the pure poison that her voice leaked.

"We just want to talk. Will you lower shield for a moment, ma'am?"

"And why the hell should I do that? So you can fire more missiles at us or barge in here with your guns? Do you think we're idiots, soldier?"

There was a shuffle of movement between the five of them before the same voice answered back, significantly cowed, "No, ma'am. Perhaps, then, if you could come out here-

"I am not going out there and you are not coming in here, understand? If you need to talk, talk. But know that right now I don't really give much of a damn what anyone has to say, especially _you_, Mr. smooth-talking bull-shitter."

Sora's eyebrow rose and his concentration faltered for a moment at the pleasant woman's cursing. It showed in the golden glow that lit up the surroundings just slightly, a flicker that went through the entire circumference, but it disappeared as swiftly as it appeared. Aqua glanced towards him quickly with a supportive smile and turned back to the soldiers with a scowl.

"Just hear me out," the soldier pleaded, so quietly that Sora almost didn't hear the words, "my name is Michello, and these guys here are close friends of mine. We don't want to continue this assault, we don't want to continue this whole war. I wanted to apologize for everything we've put you through today. But it doesn't have to continue. We're only here for the Angels of Radiant Garden, hand them over to us and we will leave in peace. Otherwise, we'll be staying until your shields fall. And they will if we're measuring by how the kid there is faring. So it's your choice; the Angels, or the entire city including the Angels. What do you say?"

The Knight hesitated for many moments, as if thinking it over. Sora's mouth went dry and he wanted to yell at her; to tell her that he was capable of holding the barrier, and to remind her of her words; that Zack and the others were near and would help her. The rest of the Knights would be here and the Angels as well, they could fight these soldiers off with ease. But her head was bowing, and Sora's throat was so constricted he was having a hard time breathing. She wasn't looking his way so she couldn't see his panicked expression.

But suddenly her head lifted and her sword was in her hand in less than a second, tip grazing the barrier warningly, when she spoke her voice was so low and deadly that a shudder went up Sora's spine, "I say go to hell."

The soldiers shifted again, beginning to turn away with rigid shoulders and sneering teeth, "Fine. But remember that this was your choice when your people are being slaughtered in the streets. Remember that we could have resolved this peacefully."

"Peacefully?" Aqua seethed, taking a few steps forward so that she was practically pressed against the dome, her hands clenched and body quaking with fury, "We've been trying to resolve things 'peacefully' for the past two hundred years, you worthless excuse for human life! Get the _fuck_ away from here or you're going to regret the day you ever even _thought_ of joining the Military!"

And just like that, the soldiers were gone, cackling to each other and making light-hearted jokes about the 'insane Church freaks'.

Aqua waited until they were several meters away before she finally turned away, sheathing her sword and going back to Sora.

"How are you doing?" she whispered, wrapping her arms around the boy's shivering shoulders.

"Fine. I'd be better if it wasn't so cold out." He laughed a little.

"Sora… it's actually pretty hot out here, especially with that fire. What else is wrong?"

He thought about that, wondering over the bone-deep chill that was burrowing through his skin. "I don't know. I'm really weak, tired, cold. I can't really… can't really think straight right now."

Many moments of silence passed, and Aqua stood cautiously, releasing the Angel slowly, "Okay. Will you be alright here while I run and get Hayner, Pence, and Olette? It'll only take a few minutes, I promise."

He nodded, not really noticing when the Knight disappeared into the city behind him. Now that he was alone once more, everything was hitting him again. The pure exhaustion, the pain and numbness echoing through his limbs, now joined by the withering coldness that was like ice water in his veins. He didn't notice when his body collapsed onto the warm earth, hands still planted and pushing all of his energy into the barrier. He couldn't think. All that was running through his mind was Riku. Riku smiling wryly at him, Riku rolling his eyes at him, Riku frowning at him, Riku snapping at him, Riku laughing at him, Riku holding him. He just wanted to see Riku. It had been too, too long since the last time he saw him.

He didn't notice that time had passed. He didn't notice the voices yelling his name. He didn't notice the hot hands that cupped either side of his face. He did notice, however, those familiar gray-green eyes peering into his intently, pale lips framing his name frantically.

"Think of the devil and the devil will come," Sora grinned widely as his senses returned steadily.

Riku frowned, "Not funny, Sora! What the hell were you thinking?"

The Guardian wrenched him to his feet, ignoring the brunette's feeble protest when his hands left the ground. The golden glow faded into the usual mix of green, blue, and slight yellow. Sora cringed in Riku's arms, expecting gunfire and rockets to immediately shower down on them, but the assault didn't come. He raised his eyes past his Guardian and gawked at the scene that was playing out past the dome of protection, even as small hands pressed at him and questions were asked quickly. Hayner, Pence, and Olette almost blocked his view of the ground beyond, but he could still see that the Knights of the Church were all standing before the soldiers, swords drawn and in defensive stances. The truck that Riku and they had arrived in was off to the side a bit and wrecked, obviously by the driver having run over quite a few of the soldiers on its way in.

"Riku, they-"

"They'll be fine, Sora."

The Angel turned back to the small group surrounding him, eyes meeting those of Aerith's as she smiled faintly, gesturing towards the barrier,

"Zack is with them. They'll be okay, I promise."

"But there has to be at least a hundred soldiers out there!"

"Have faith, young one."

"I have no faith anymore." Sora murmured darkly, receiving shocked looks from all around.

"Sora, you-"

Olette interrupted Riku's dismayed voice by snapping from her position where she had been attempting to read Sora's heart rate, "Alright, alright, shut up so we can take him back to the cathedral! Geez, you guys!"

Heated disciples wilted under the narrowed eyes of the usually sweet and subservient girl, moving to obey by helping Sora move towards the looming silhouette of the cathedral against the swarming colors of the dome. Sky blue eyes darted backward frequently though, worry obvious as he watched the Knights face the soldiers with hostility in their stances. They were talking now, but the fighting would soon begin.

†

Days had passed. Zexion wasn't sure how many; for once he wasn't counting. He was basking in the memories and feel of just being around his old mentor, actually smiling and laughing as they looked over their books together, pointing things out to each other and working their own theories. Really, they could have parted ways as soon as Vexen found Zexion's text, but the young Guardian inexplicably lingered, letting Vincent and Demyx to themselves as he spent most of his time with Vexen.

He knew Vincent had found a new friend in a current Turk named Reno, who apparently had connections to the Church through Cloud, and that Demyx was spending time with that soldier, Axel. The latter concerned him, but Zexion figured they wouldn't be there long enough for there to be real consequences. Demyx had the right to his own life, and so his Guardian was staying out of the picture- for now.

And so, four days later, Zexion was beginning to feel the stirrings of reluctance and sorrow when he realized they would have to leave soon, and almost snapped when Valentine voiced as much. This place was more like his home than the cathedral could ever be. The atmosphere of the labs… peaceful and full of anticipated knowledge, pristine cleanliness and organized sheets of notes collected in various places all about the rooms… it was what he had missed and yearned for. And of course the man that sat behind his desk presently, narrowed emerald eyes darting between his own pages of notes and the text lying open beside that. Zexion sat across from him, legs curled under him and body poised over his own text as he drew conclusions. But his concentration was broken every time Doctor Even muttered something under his breath or sighed.

Zexion would glance up at him worriedly, taking in the obsessive gleam in the other's eyes, before returning back to his own work reluctantly. He so wanted to say something, but he wanted to find out what was going on with Sora before he left. That way he had an excuse for them staying so long.

After hours of silent reading and mindlessly scribbled notes, something clicked into place with Zexion, loudly and forcefully enough that he rose from his seat immediately, bracing his hands on the desk as he stared down at the work.

"Ienzo? What is it?" Vexen questioned, finally looking up from his own notes.

"I have it," the Guardian whispered, hands flying over the book, turning pages in a flash as his eyes shot between them and his notepad, "I have it! Look, Professor Even! Light and darkness are Bases, that is common knowledge. What most people do not know is the distinction between Magik and Elements. Elements have to do with an influence over nature, creating a power that can be harnessed by particular people. Magik is supposed as a 'divine gift', presumably from the gods. Magik usually in some way draws off of Elements. For example, the barrier that surrounds Radiant Garden. Aerith's healing Magik takes power from Demyx's water Element and feeds the combination to the city. But what Sora has is a Base, pure light. What this text essentially is saying is that Bases cannot draw energy from Elements or Magik, instead it powers the Element or Magik. It is saying that the energy the Base emits must return to the Angel that created it, but when that energy is used to reinforce the Element or Magik, it cannot return to the Angel. Sora's light concentrates on Demyx's water to keep the water 'alive'. Aerith's Magik is like vines, soaking in the water and light, so Sora's Base is not returning to him. The more he gives to Reconstruction, the worse he will become every time. It is only affecting him in that area because elsewhere his Base can return to him, but when he assists in putting up the barrier he is giving that permanently. His 'supply' of Base is dwindling, which essentially means that he is sacrificing his life force to put up the dome, which is why he has becoming more and more weak and ill."

Vexen had gone into contemplative mode, a hand cradling his chin as his eyes darted around, "So that means that the order of the forces in which the barrier is put up was predetermined before your Angels were even born. It was a knowledge passed down from the Gods, and is the only way the barrier will work, through that order. One force feeds off the next, so there must be something being permanently drained, which happens to be Sora. Of course. Why hadn't I seen it before…?"

Zexion was somber as he finished writing down his theory in scrawling cursive, closing the text softly and sitting back down heavily.

"So there's only one important question now. Should we give up the barrier, or give up Sora?"

The two scientists met each other's eyes as they mused to themselves solemnly. It was worse than Zexion feared. He would not be able to do a thing to help Sora. Nobody would be able to do a thing. And when it was between the safety of Radiant Garden, and the life of one Angel, there really wasn't a choice to be made at all. They could only hope to find another Angel of light before Sora's life force was completely depleted. The Guardian had a sinking feeling that Aerith already knew all this. How could she not, when she was the one who found the new Angels at the perfect times? It was not the Gods telling her when it was time; she saw the signs of death in her Angels long before the Gods ever told her the location of a replacement. That's all they were, wasn't it? Replacements for those before them. They were not individuals, they were not special, they were expendable.

Fury rose in Zexion. At the Gods, at Aerith, at the war, at life. All he could think of was Demyx's eternal brightness in the darkest of hours, and how that meant nothing to the Gods. It had to mean something. There had to be a reason for Aerith's gentle, kind understanding, and Sora's care and faith for their people, and especially the fire that roared behind Demyx's blue-green eyes whenever he saw a friend or innocent in danger or pain. There just had to be some significance in those things. He refused to believe otherwise.

For the first time, Zexion turned away from the truth.

That evening he sat in Vexen's luxurious living room within the floor dedicated especially to the successful scientist and gazed into the flames that danced in the stone grate before him. Vexen entered the room minutes later and offered him a crystal tumbler full of amber liquid. After just a moment of hesitation, the teenager took it with a grateful nod. Vexen collapsed beside him on the small leather couch, taking a sip from his own glass as he surveyed his past pupil.

"What's on your mind, Zexion?"

The steel-haired young man let out a long sigh, his shoulders falling from their proud lift into a weary slouch, just like his countenance. His eyes were tired and shadow-scored as they looked into the alcohol in his hand. He took a long gulp of it before he spoke, missing the way Vexen's eyes followed the action with interest and a hint of sadness.

"I do not know what we are fighting for, Vexen," the professor startled a bit at the use of his first name, but recovered quickly enough for the boy not to notice, "what was it? For the honor of our country? To restore the peace and love that used to be?"

Zexion barked a small chuckle and continued, "What bullshit. Man versus man, man versus the Gods, it does not matter. The Church thinks it has a way to end this war without violence. That is bullshit as well. There is always violence, has always been violence, and always will be violence. The actions of man in the present cannot change the nature of us as a species. So what, then, are we really fighting for?"

Young, earnest eyes turned on the doctor and the blonde sighed as he sat back further into the couch, eyeing the warm, lively fire dancing in the grate, "Power, I suppose. Does it really matter what we're fighting for, Zexion? Not fighting would mean surrendering. Which would mean oppression of the Church and its disciples. People like you and Demyx would be experimented on, or treated as slaves. At the beginning, we were fighting for nothing. Now, we are fighting for our freedom and power in this country. A war going on this long changes, perspectives change and so do the men in power. Rufus Shinra is not a crude or evil man, he has just been misled all of his young life. He needs someone to show him how to run a country, but instead he's being taught how to be a totalitarian leader. Really, we just need to get close enough to him, and gain enough influence, to convince him that how he is going about things is wrong. However, we can't do that with every man under him standing in our way. Which is where the Church's plan comes into play. What you've told me, it's a delicate plan and could easily be ruined, but it will be completely successful if it survives."

"What do you think our chances are of succeeding?"

"Honestly, Zexion? I don't know. I've been viewing these proceedings from the outside ever since you left. The Military seems as strong and resilient as ever, but they would never suspect the Church planning what they are. Most people here still believe that the disciples of the Church are crazed lunatics with nothing but blood and war on their mind. So I don't know, Zexion. All I know for sure is that I'm putting my money on the Church."

Zexion didn't look particularly relieved or comforted, but the darkness and exhaustion in his body had bled into a comfortable looseness. Though that may have been because of the alcohol, which the boy continued to nurse as he sank further back, letting the warmth of the fire wash over him. Minutes of silence passed before Zexion finally looked over at Vexen and met his eyes.

"Vexen, thank you for these last few days. I have truly missed you and the labs the years past. Being with the Church and with Demyx full time… it is exhausting."

The professor snorted, downing the rest of his drink and setting the tumbler aside, "I could only imagine, Zexion. Know that you are welcome here any time. And I mean that," he slanted a serious look to his once-pupil, making sure his words were sinking in, "I've told you before and I'll tell you again that you are the most important person I care about in this world. I care for my patients and colleagues, but if you asked me to come back to the cathedral with you I think I would. Not that I'm suggesting you do that. That would be stupid right now. What I'm saying is that if you come to me, no matter the circumstances, situation, or location, I will take you in. At first I viewed you as the child that you were, but it didn't take long for me to see you as a sort of son. And then, as you grew, so did my feelings for you. I watched you become the young genius that you are today. I love you, Zexion."

The proclamation stunned the teenager but a smile was flickering at the edges of his lips against his will. He almost returned the words. He could feel them on the tip of his tongue. But he never got the chance. Vexen had risen and kneeled in front of him, wrapping long arms around his lithe body and resting his head on Zexion's chest. The Guardian's body stiffened, then relaxed almost immediately, his arms moving to drape over the older man's shoulders as if it was natural, as if they had done this dozens of times before.

They sat like that for many long moments before Vexen pulled back slightly to look up into shadow-ringed gray-violet eyes, "I love you, Zexion. You are strong, you are brilliant. You can fight for whatever you want, but the fact is that you will fight, because it's what you need to do to protect the ones you care about."

"Thank you," Zexion whispered, fingers grazing over his mentor's face gingerly, "those words would not mean as much coming from anyone else, Vexen."

It was as close to 'I love you' that Vexen would ever get.

That night they slept on the couch together, Zexion not being plagued by insomnia for the first time in years. But come morning, they were rudely awakened by insistent pounding on the door. The teenager was the first one on his feet and moving, and so he was the first one that greeted Demyx, who was looking rather twitchy and nervous. Zexion could feel the heat of Vexen at his back and was almost inclined to lean back into the solid wall of strength and stability that the man emanated, but he resisted, as he was prone to these days, and raised an eyebrow at his Angel.

"Good morning, Demyx. What brings you here," Zexion turned a bit so that he could glance at the clock hanging just inside the professor's door, "…at four in the morning?"

The blonde shifted on his feet agitatedly and his voice was unusually quiet when he whispered, sending furtive, mistrustful glances behind the Guardian at Vexen, "We have to go. Zack's downstairs."

Well. That was sooner than Zexion had first deduced.

"Tell him to relax for a little while. We will start packing and have breakfast together downstairs," he caught Demyx's pale expression easily, "what?"

"He's pissed. Like, majorly pissed off, Zexion. He wouldn't even talk to me, just asked where you were. I told him that I didn't know and that I would look around and came running up here as fast as I could, but you gotta hurry. I think he's going to kill us."

A slim, slate-colored brow rose incredulously, but the expression it called for was not on the Guardian's face. His features were blank and emotionless as his brilliant mind processed the information quickly.

"Where is Valentine?"

"Downstairs with Zack. Come on, Zexion, we need to go before he finds us!"

"Too late."

Zexion's back immediately stiffened at the tone in that awfully familiar voice and a cold chill sliced its way through his entire body, causing wracking shivers to crawl over his skin and muscles. Zack Fair was usually a very jovial, enthused person, whether it be when he was training with the Knights, dining with Aerith, or praying with the rest of the disciples. When talking of the war he would be solemn, but a smile would still tilt his lips at the people he cared for in an effort to raise spirits and encourage useful thinking. Usually, Zack Fair was a grinning, amazingly smart idiot that wouldn't want to hurt a desert beetle.

Right now, Zack Fair was a scowling, dark embodiment of rage, complete with clenched fists, narrowed eyes under thunderously tensed brows, and a high-strung posture that screamed 'murder'. He stamped down the hall, shoulders tight and raised, arms close to his body and one hand in constant reach of the plain broadsword strapped around his hips. Instead of the usual church white, he was wearing blue, silver, and black, wind-scorched and revealing the testament that he hadn't rested once on his way here. Through the desert. At night.

He was going to kill them, wasn't he?

"Ienzo," the man nearly hissed, finally stopping yards away from them. Another series of alarmed currents ran up his spine as the tone hit him again. It was the same tone from years before, and they were in a similar position. It finally clicked with Zexion.

Who died?

"Zack." His voice cracked as it fought through the panic that was already rising, choking and disemboweling him all at the same time. Heat and chills racing up skin, tightening and loosening of muscles, erratic breathing and heartbeat. They were all signs of a panic attack coming on, but Zexion wasn't aware of them enough to talk himself out. He felt as if he was becoming un-solidified under Zack's sharp violet gaze, the lines of his body blurring and merging into some kind of sick elixir as he stood trembling under the Knight Commander.

"What has happened?" the younger Guardian finally managed to whisper, voice dry and gasping. It was unusual enough for a cool hand to grasp his upper arm and gently move him aside so that Vexen could step up beside him. That firm touch grounded the teenager to reality a little, so that he could look up at Zack expectantly, dreading the news he suspected.

Zack, however, shot a venomous look at Vexen.

"I assure you," the scientist declared, "that I am no threat to you if it means I am a threat to Zexion. Say what you will, but I cannot in good conscience allow my former student to be discharged to a man that looks near homicide."

Translation: say whatever the fuck you want, but you're not taking him.

Violet eyes met emerald green for a few moments before releasing them, Zack's attention moving back to the still-shaking teenager.

"Radiant Garden was attacked while you were gone. Most of the Knights, as well as I, Aerith, and the medics, were already too far away to help, not that we even knew what was happening until much later. Sora was the only one left to defend the city, and had to use his powers all through the day and most of the night to keep the barrier standing. I don't know what the hell you were thinking, Zexion. Are you really that stupid? Repeating past mistakes seems to be a recurring theme with you. Maybe I should just strap a chain to your ankle. And why the HELL did you take Demyx? We need him, you know, he's not your tag-along puppy!"

Zexion could have tried to defend himself, to explain himself, but all that would come out was a horrified, "Is Sora…?"

"He's in critical condition. He passed out after the medics tended to him and hasn't regained consciousness since. I hope you're proud of yourself, Ienzo."

"That is enough!" Vexen took a few steps forward, warningly pointing at Zack, "You have no right to come in here and accuse Zexion of trying to murder Sora, when he only came here to find out how to fix the boy's problem!"

The older Guardian looked from scientist to teenager and back again, and his scowl deepened, arms crossing tensely, "Sure isn't what it looks like to me. Did you sleep with this creep, Ienzo?"

Both of them stiffened then, matching glares burrowing into Zack.

Vexen spoke before Zexion could even formulate a reply, his voice low and dangerous, "I think it's about time you leave, Commander Fair."

Zack's eyes flashed with something just as lethal, "I will, as soon as I collect my belongings."

With that, the ravenette stepped forward almost faster than the eye could trace, and took an unyielding fistful of the front of Zexion's black coat. Demyx, who had been attempting to become one with the wall throughout the whole exchange, yelped when his wrist was caught as well. Zack had taken maybe four or five steps before Vexen moved, nearly sprinting to round on the soldier.

Poisonous green eyes glared at him and Zexion cringed in between the two powerful men, half-afraid they wouldn't hesitate to turn offensive with him caught in the middle.

"Zexion and Demyx are not your belongings," Vexen spat, surprising both of the younger males. They didn't expect the scientist to include Demyx at all, had thought he had forgotten all about him, and yet… "and they haven't even collected their items yet. I believe that Zexion has a text that may end up saving Sora's life. And you were just going to throw it away. So really, who is the murderer, Fair?"

The soldier let go of the boys as if he had been burned, breath suddenly harsh and loud in the silent, dim hallway. He stepped closer to Vexen, getting beyond a comfortable proximity, and his voice crackled like lightning and smoke,

"Says the Military Doctor. You treat the scum. You're worse than scum."

The blonde's eyes narrowed even further, lines etching into his face to show tense displeasure, "I saved Cloud Strife's life. Are you saying he is scum, then?"

Zack released him as if burnt, stepping back out of shock.

Vexen smiled, not smugly, just simply, "Get to know someone before you decide to judge them, Zackary."

"How do you know so much?" Zack slanted a glare to Zexion, making the younger Guardian flinch noticeably.

"I listen, Zackary."

The ravenette looked between the three in the hallway, and Zexion looked as well. He could feel his own nerves and muscles sporadically jolting from adrenaline, and knew he was practically trembling in his boots-literally. Demyx had since flattened himself against the wall, fixing his gaze straight down at the scarlet carpet and splaying his hands over the white paint behind him, body hunched and motionless. Vexen stood like a guardian angel, power seeming to seep from his very pores as he stood tall and proud, never faltering. Zack was looking a little lost, and it took him quite a little while to get control of himself again.

Then he was sighing and rubbing his hands over his face exhaustedly, shaking his head, "Go on, then. Pack your things. I want you downstairs with Vincent in fifteen minutes though."

Just then the elevator doors slid open and a tall frame stepped out of it languidly, feet gliding in a lazy rhythm over the carpet. He was dressed in full uniform, which was special for him, of course, in black and scarlet. His own flaming-red hair shifted over his shoulders as he walked, and it took many moments for acid-toned eyes to look up and take in the scene before him. But then those feet stopped and that back straightened.

His gaze first fastened on Demyx for a few seconds, scanning up and down once quickly, then he was looking around the small group.

"What the hell is this? Demyx?"

"A-Axel," the Angel stuttered, finally moving away from the wall, "this is… well, this is Zack, that's Zexion- you've met him- that's Professor Even- you met him, too, before I did-

He stopped at the brow Axel raised.

"Is something going on here, I should have asked."

"Nope. Actually, we're getting ready to leave."

Every ounce of happiness or amusement in Axel's expression crashed into shatters at the redhead's feet within milliseconds of the blonde's words being spoken. The whole group fell silent, feeling stunned at the complete desperation and abandonment that shone in teal-green eyes.

Zack Fair's tense, hostile voice was the only one to break the silence after that, "Forget the fifteen minutes. Zexion, grab that gods-damned book. Demyx, get downstairs NOW. You," he glared hotly at Axel, who stood broken and utterly confused, "don't you dare try to follow us. I will kill you, no matter what kind of fancy powers you have. Leave Demyx alone. It's the only time I'll be warning you."

Zexion was left alone with Axel and Vexen. He looked at both of them, at both of their regretful and reluctant expressions, and sighed. This was going to be a long book-grab.

He wondered if maybe Zack would just leave without him if he took too long.

Ten minutes later the Knight was dragging Zexion harshly through the front doors of North HQ, paying no attention to the smirking soldiers framing the door that were none-the-wiser at who had just walked into their base with false identifications.

If they only knew how many traitors they'd probably looked upon already.

**AN: I'll try to update soon, it'll probably be a lot sooner if you drop me a review telling me what you liked or disliked. I know, I'm not a big fan of authors begging, either, but it's the truth. Reviews= love and encouragement, which every writer needs for their stories to breathe life and inspiration. Well, see you next chapter, I hope!**

**Ciao~! :)**


	15. SIDE NOTE

No, my lovely readers, I apologize but this is not a new chapter. T~T

As some of you may know, it is National Novel Writing Month, or Nanowrimo, so I am putting this story on hold until December. I just wanted to write and let you all know what's going on so you aren't all 'what the hell, TwIn?'...

Again, I am so sorry, especially to you all who REALLY really enjoy this story. Please don't be angry and feel free to message me if you want to scream at me and tell me to keep writing. Who knows, enough threats and I might have another chapter out before December. xD

In the meantime, here's something you guys can think about. **I AM OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS ABOUT THE STORY**. What scene do you really want to see? I can write it in, just for you. Just something to show you reviewers, followers, and favorite-ers how much I really value your support. ^_^ **WARNING**: I'm only taking the first and/or top three suggestions, and yes, you guys with no account on here can make suggestions, too. Just put it in a review, okay?

Love you guys~! I am planning on having CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Speak and be Told out by 10/5.

**Because I feel so guilty, here's a little preview:**

"Cloud, welcome back."

The blonde soldier nodded at his general, the great hero of the century, Sephiroth, but did not even attempt to put any enthusiasm in the motion. He was not glad to be back. That meant seeing the man that was now standing right in front of him. It's not that Cloud hated the man, no, on the contrary, Sephiroth had been his hero since he was just a child collecting newspapers and highlighting articles with the dark, mysterious man in them.

The first time they had met, Cloud had been just a sputtering, nerve-wrecked teenager that only kept from falling to his knees in hero worship because of the cause he supported. The dream that so many were counting on him to be a part of. So even though every beat of his heart was impossibly loud, off-tempo, and erratic at best, he kept his cool. He, a tiny teenager that had barely reached puberty, had stared up into cold jade eyes fearlessly, saluting with such perfection that he had his asshole unit leader nodding with approval. Sephiroth had glared down at him, aura projecting pure thunder, and frowned. Then he smiled. That was when Cloud lost it and began to blush furiously, only barely hanging onto his ego by holding the salute. 'What was your name, again, cadet?' 'Cloud Strife, sir.' 'Indeed. Good luck, Strife. I'll be keeping an eye on your career here with the military.' Cloud had nearly had a heart attack at those words, and freaked out to Zack later that week. Zack had merely smiled and ruffled his hair, congratulating him on a 'job VERY WELL done'.

After that day, true to his word, Sephiroth had dropped in on many of Cloud's training sessions, and sat through every ability test and academic exam that the blonde had, always with a tiny smirk on his face that puzzled not only the object of its attention, but the rest of the occupants of the room as well. Cloud was bullied and harassed about his and Sephiroth's strange relationship, but the blonde didn't let any of that get to him. He had something more than esteem to protect.

That cause that he had devoted his life to years before, though, was now like a parasite that he shared a symbiotic relationship with. He wanted to get rid of it, but he didn't think he could live if he broke those ties this far into the game. Why would he want to break it, you ask? Well… he didn't hate Sephiroth. That was the problem. In fact, a tiny, nearly invisible part of him might even say that he loved the man. Which was why he couldn't bear to look at those strange jade eyes, or the familiar smirk that only appeared for him and him only, or the eccentric but beautiful features of the general. Because Cloud knew that one day soon, he would betray the one person he hated and loved more strongly than any other.

He could already taste the regret.


	16. Speak and be Told

**AN: DEAR LORD I'M BACK. First off, let me tell you guys why I've been absent. NO, I DID NOT PURPOSELY ABANDON YOU. I'm also telling you this because it may or may not pertain to future chapters. I just suffered a horrible loss in my family, and right now my life is a- no, it's worse than a wreck. It's beyond the point of ordinary wreckage. Right now, my life is like a crumbling, decade-old ruin overgrown with moss and rodents, and every time I build a new wall on top of the wreckage, they just collapse right back down into the ruin. Dramatic enough for you? Yeah, me too. :p There's that, and there's also the issue of me graduating soon. And a new semester of college classes just started. Soooooo, that's what's going on. **

**All that being said, I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO INTENTION OF ABANDONING THIS STORY! I may take short breaks every now and then, depending on what's going on in my life and the popularity of the story (which I see has sky-rocketed in my absence. THANKS SO MUCH EVERYONE!), but I shall not leave this baby unfinished! **

**Okay. Next order of business. Since all that is going on, and I have no beta/editor (OF WHICH I AM SORELY IN NEED OF AND WOULD TAKE ANY HELP OFFERED), the chapters will have to be shortened to about 2k words. Instead of throwing two different POVs per chapter, I'll be putting only one. So, like, Sora in one chapter and Roxas in the next instead of them sharing.**

**Alrighty, I think this spiel is coming to an end. Any questions or comments about the previously stated I shall gladly respond to through either PM or at the end of the next chapter (if in review form). Once I get organized once more, I will file the requests you all so graciously provided me with. **

**Thank you for your participation, those who did! Those who haven't, you still have time. I will probably start integrating those in chapter fifteen or so. **

**Again, thank all of you so much for the favorites/follows/reviews! ESPECIALLY REVIEWS. I hate to preach and beg, but those keep me motivated and were ultimately what brought me back online. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! **

**Enjoy~!**

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Speak and be Told

The people of the Kingdom were restless. Children that usually played in the street during the day were huddled inside with worry-wracked parents, sitting before glowing hearths or around tables. Occasionally a few pairs of eyes would look up into others in the room, attempting to retrieve answers for questions that they did not know how to put in words. The Military was the same as always, other than the latest attacks by the crazed Church disciples that were splashed all over the headlines of every newspaper in the East. In quaint Radiant Garden, the scenario was much the same, except families were on their knees in prayer, looking up to the ceiling and imagining the sky beyond, praying for something they didn't understand. The people went about their normal daily lives, farming lands rich with crop, tending stands in the city, typing up more and more lies, passing out rations to the many homeless and ill. But every soul in the Kingdom had the same feeling of something building, something bending, something about to break.

†

Riku was pacing. He thought about sitting, he thought about walking outside and taking a jog, hell, he'd even thought of actually going to bed like Tidus kept insisting. But no, all his body would obey was the repeated command to move at a steady, clipped pace from one end of the room and back, like a repeating message, as if his circuits were malfunctioning or wired backwards.

All he could see was Sora, where the boy lay on the bed, deathly pale and mysteriously unconscious. Hayner, Pence, and Olette had done all they could, all the original medics could have done, but no amount of healing powers would wake the Angel. It was as if he had just fallen into a very deep sleep that he couldn't come out of. It had happened a few hours after they got him back to the chapel. He had seemed fine, had even had the strength to blush guiltily when Riku began to berate him and then had the sense to comfort the silverette when he finally broke down into blubbering apologies. He had been fine, up and bright-eyed one moment, then down for the count the next.

And all Riku could do for the entire day and a half afterwards was pace and worry. His nails were gnawed down to the quick, feet aching from the constant movement, but he could not stop the infernal itch in his bones that screamed _move, help, do something. _He had gotten onto his knees and prayed a few times, and was finally moving to do so for the fifth.

Beside Sora's bed he knelt, taking one of the boy's cold hands in his and clenching his eyes shut as he bowed his head and begged the Gods to help Sora. _Please, Gods, anything but this. Anything but Sora. Don't take him from this world, take me instead. I will lay my life down, and I know it's more dirtied and impure than Sora's pure light but please, Gods, anybody but Sora, please!_

After two full days had passed Riku was sitting on the edge of the bed, numbly staring at the wall in front of him. That was how Zack, Zexion, and Demyx found him that dawn, bleary-eyed and completely lost to what was happening around him. He became aware, though, when a large book dropped onto the pristine sheets beside him. He looked up blankly, taking in Zexion's unusually expressive face and the wet-eyed Demyx that stood just behind him. Zack was beside Zexion, a hand on the youngest Guardian's shoulder, as if to keep him in place or steer him around.

As slow as it was turning, Riku's brain didn't immediately process all the new input, and still hadn't by the time Zexion was looking over the unconscious brunette. But as soon as one of his hands went to check Sora's pulse, Riku shot up and shoved him away violently,

"Don't touch him!" He snarled, glaring down Zexion.

The slate-haired young man tilted his head slightly, "Riku, I just want to see what I can do to help Sora."

"Figure it out if you want, but you're not touching him."

"Riku."

Zexion's serious, no-nonsense tone sharpened his attention and the heat roiling angrily in his chest chilled at the teenager's somber expression.

"What?" Riku looked behind him to Zack and Demyx, who also had somewhat grim looks set into their faces. He was surprised to see the ever-bubbly blonde with a dark frown over his lips, and more than a little panicked.

Zexion stepped forward once again, raising his hands defensively in case Riku decided to push him back again. The silverette didn't, just because the boy was approaching him and not the unconscious brunette.

"Sora might not be able to wake up."

The chill in his veins froze into ice. He swore his blood stopped completely in its circulation as the three other conscious occupants of the room took a step closer to him, as if they thought he was going to lose it. He swallowed thickly, raking his fingers through his hair and trying to control the despair that was beginning to slowly seep into every fiber of his being.

"Why?" He managed after swallowing once more. Still, his voice came strained and hoarse, as if he'd just eaten a pinecone, "Why can't I… he… I can't do anything to help him?"

He was breaking. He could see it, Demyx could see it, Zack could see it, hell, even cold-hearted Zexion could see it. The youngest Guardian stepped forward so that he was only a foot away and laid a comforting hand on Riku's shoulder, to everyone's surprise.

"Sora has been fading for awhile now," Zexion murmured, as gently as possible, "his power is unlike Aerith's and Demyx's. He has been using it in a way that has been draining his soul every time he uses it."

"I…" Riku's mind spun with questions as he looked at his Angel, "is there nothing we can do?"

"There might be one thing. A very slim chance, but it is still an option."

"What is it?"

"…taking the barrier down."

Zack shook his head and began to open his mouth, as if to reject the idea before it could even hold in Riku's head. But a random question from the silverette stopped him before he could say a single word.

"Zexion, how do you know this when Aerith doesn't?"

That inquiry brought uneasy glances all around, especially from Zack. Zexion cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, and spoke as if he was imparting traitorous knowledge. Which, really, it was,

"Aerith knew."

There it was. Riku felt the final shift in his head, as if his whole skull had collapsed one way and then healed immediately. As if his heart had been struck with lightning. Aerith knew. Aerith had known that they were killing Sora, and hadn't said a word. She'd even let Zexion go about his hard, wearying research, probably thinking he wouldn't find anything.

Teal eyes settled on Sora at the same moment as his tan hand was taken by Riku's much paler one. The silence that followed Zexion's words was long and very uncomfortable, but there seemed to be no words that could break through the dark atmosphere. That is, until some of Demyx's spirit returned.

"You know…" he murmured, perking up with eager, bright eyes, "I heard this old folk tale once, about a woman who was in a deep sleep brought on by a witch's curse. Her true love kissed her and she woke up."

"That is heart-warming, Demyx," Zexion drawled in exasperation, "but that does not help our current situation."

The blonde tilted his head and shrugged in embarrassment, "It was just a thought."

"A thought's worth a try," Riku murmured, leaning over Sora to press his lips to the cold, lifeless ones.

He focused on the feeling of Sora's lips against his, and wondered at the intensity of emotions the simple actions caused to spring up in his heart. It was as if the darkness inside of him suddenly fled from his body in that one moment. His eyes fluttered shut and he breathed in Sora's scent, concentrating on the innocent kiss.

After letting their lips remain connected for half a minute, perhaps more, he forced himself to draw back. When he looked up, the other three in the room held varying expressions of shock, though Demyx was grinning from ear-to-ear. The silverette looked back down to Sora and felt his heart fall a little bit when the Angel did not immediately open his eyes and spring up to his feet with a characteristically cheery grin just for Riku.

He shook his head and backed away from the bed, barely feeling when Zexion's hand laid on his arm comfortingly.

"Come on," the youngest male in the room murmured, steering Riku away, "you need some rest."

"I need Sora!" he snapped, but let himself be led away, head snapping to look over his shoulder every few steps. At the thick shadows like smudged ink under Sora's beautiful, hidden eyes. At the lifeless brunette hair that was spread out on the pillow in limp spikes. At the scarily shallow movement of his small chest, struggling up and down with every breath.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Riku felt something thick and oh so strong grip at his chest. Somehow the feeling had a straight connection to his eyes, and he was stunned when he felt hot tears gather at his lashes. He blinked them away, fiercely trying to hold back the torrent, but it was ruthless, and before long, silent tears were tracking down his cheeks as he walked.

He was a broken man, and everyone could see it.

As soon as the tears started falling, a sort of numbness took him over. When he was laying in his and Sora's bed, staring at the wall opposite the door, he wondered how he got there. When he woke up from a deep, restful slumber, he wondered how he could sleep at a time like this. When he was standing on the threshold to the cafeteria, he wondered how he'd gotten there.

And when everyone fell silent and all eyes fixed on him, he wondered why.

The first to approach him was Aerith. Her bright gray-blue eyes were overwhelmed with sympathy and pleading, and Riku knew that she knew. In response, his eyes turned steely and cold. She gripped at his arms desperately, in a way that no one had seen before. Shocked murmurs went around the room as Riku just continued to stare at her coolly.

"Riku," Aerith finally said, trying to push him out the door into the corridor, "let me explain."

"Explain what?" Riku said loudly, to Aerith's horror, so that everyone in the dining hall could hear, "Explain how you've been killing Sora for years? Please, I'd like to hear it."

Then Zack was storming towards them, not hesitating to wrap a protective arm around Aerith and help the Angel push him out the door. Riku stumbled back into the hallway, straightening and patting down his robe to straighten out the aggravated cloth. Zack let the door fall shut behind them, blocking out the rest of the disciples of the Church.

"Riku, what the hell do you think you're doing, man?" Zack asked quietly, letting Aerith go and nudging her to the side as he faced his younger companion.

Riku cocked his head at the man, feeling nothing but a thirst for revenge, "She came to me first. If you want to keep me from hurting her, don't let her come near me."

"Riku," Aerith breathed, hands rising to cover her mouth. Her eyes were wide and shimmered with tears of hurt and regret, but the silverette didn't let it faze him.

He kept his eyes trained on Zack. The ravenette and he had always gotten along in a sublime, passive sort of way. As people, they were mutually positive acquaintances. As fighters, they were hostile and wary of one another. As Guardians, they were the best of friends.

But right at that moment, they were enemies in every sense of the word.

Finally, Riku turned back to the beautiful Angel standing there innocently, and with total iciness, spat,

"I should kill you like you killed Sora; slowly, without remorse."

Aerith's eyes couldn't get any wider, and tears had finally started to flow down her cheeks. The hands clasped at chest-level shook and the brunette just stared at Riku for a few moments before whirling around and streaking down the hall. The Guardian noted that she was headed in the direction of Sora's room, but shrugged it away. If Sora was never going to wake up again, she couldn't do much harm. That led him into wondering about what Sora would want them to do with him. Would he rather be dead than live the rest of his life asleep? What if his dreams were nightmares, and were torturing him every single moment of every single day?

Zack snapped him out of his grim thoughts by grabbing him by the front of his Church robes and shoving him against the wall roughly. Riku blinked, and found that violet eyes were mere inches from his own, and pissed.

"You leave Aerith alone," Zack ground out, "I don't know about her knowing about Sora, but she's a good woman, and a good Angel."

The younger Guardian shrugged, attempting to dislodge Zack's fingers from his clothing. The Knight just pressed in on him harder, making his discomfort and annoyance rise.

"Funny how you go on and on about how good Aerith is and completely ignore the facts. It's always her lead, her word, her orders, and you're the dog to enforce every little thing she says. Hm. Are we really that different than the Military, Zack?"

The Knight raised an eyebrow, and usually amused eyes assessed him coolly, "Riku, think about what you're saying a second, okay? We are not bloodthirsty murderers. We are not committing genocide. THEY are. We're good, Riku. You need to try and remember that.

"Good," Riku murmured, letting his eyes drop to the floor as Zack let go of him and stepped back, rage gone. The two Guardians just stood together for a long time, staring at the floor and around the hall, but never at each other.

Zack finally sighed, raking a hand through his hair and letting his voice lighten in an entreaty for a truce between them, "Heh, this whole situation is a damn mess, isn't it?"

Anger spent, Riku decided to play along. He snorted, shook his head and crossed his arms, "You can say that again."

Their companionable silence continued, and neither attempted to break it once more. What needed to be said had been said, and even though Riku didn't feel good about placing all the blame on Aerith, he didn't exactly feel bad, either. After all, she HAD been lying to all of them, if Zexion was right. And Zexion was rarely wrong.

Many more minutes passed in which the two of them did absolutely nothing, until said young genius's footsteps could be heard approaching from around the closest corner of the corridor. His footsteps were the easiest to identify since they were so light and rapid, yet clunky and awkward in the steel-toed boots he had taken to wearing. Clothing had been becoming in short supply, and with Zexion finally sliding ungracefully out of puberty by growing a few inches every few months, they could only spare the closest things that anyone needed.

In Zexion's case, that meant boots two sizes too large and about ten pounds too heavy.

The bookworm didn't seem too concerned about the annoying apparel, though, as he strode around the corner and noticed them. In fact, his pace quickened.

"Riku!" He called.

The silverette's heart leapt and he rushed to meet the boy, "What? What is it? Is it Sora?"

Violet-gray eyes shone with fascination and eagerness as the boy nodded, "Don't get your hopes up too much, but his pulse is steadily strengthening, and some color is beginning to return to him. I have no idea how that's possible, but it's happening. Sora is somehow recovering."

Silently, deep inside, Riku thanked the Gods repeatedly, nearly falling to his knees, and he could almost hear the echo of an answer.

_"No, Riku, thank you…"_

†

"Cloud, welcome back."

The blonde soldier nodded at his general, the great hero of the century, Sephiroth, but did not even attempt to put any enthusiasm in the motion. He was not glad to be back. That meant seeing the man that was now standing right in front of him. It's not that Cloud hated the man, no, on the contrary, Sephiroth had been his hero since he was just a child collecting newspapers and highlighting articles with the dark, mysterious man in them.

The first time they had met, Cloud had been just a sputtering, nerve-wrecked teenager that only kept from falling to his knees in hero worship because of the cause he supported. The dream that so many were counting on him to be a part of. So even though every beat of his heart was impossibly loud, off-tempo, and erratic at best, he kept his cool. He, a tiny teenager that had barely reached puberty, had stared up into cold jade eyes fearlessly, saluting with such perfection that he had his asshole unit leader nodding with approval. Sephiroth had glared down at him, aura projecting pure thunder, and frowned. Then he smiled. That was when Cloud lost it and began to blush furiously, only barely hanging onto his ego by holding the salute. 'What was your name, again, cadet?' 'Cloud Strife, sir.' 'Indeed. Good luck, Strife. I'll be keeping an eye on your career here with the military.' Cloud had nearly had a heart attack at those words, and freaked out to Zack later that week. Zack had merely smiled and ruffled his hair, congratulating him on a 'job VERY WELL done'.

After that day, true to his word, Sephiroth had dropped in on many of Cloud's training sessions, and sat through every ability test and academic exam that the blonde had, always with a tiny smirk on his face that puzzled not only the object of its attention, but the rest of the occupants of the room as well. Cloud was bullied and harassed about his and Sephiroth's strange relationship, but the blonde didn't let any of that get to him. He had something more than esteem to protect.

That cause that he had devoted his life to years before, though, was now like a parasite that he shared a symbiotic relationship with. He wanted to get rid of it, but he didn't think he could live if he broke those ties this far into the game. Why would he want to break it, you ask? Well… he didn't hate Sephiroth. That was the problem. In fact, a tiny, nearly invisible part of him might even say that he loved the man. Which was why he couldn't bear to look at those strange jade eyes, or the familiar smirk that only appeared for him and him only, or the eccentric but beautiful features of the general. Because Cloud knew that one day soon, he would betray the one person he hated and loved more strongly than any other.

He could already taste the regret.

He was shaken out of his musings when the man tilted his head curiously at his silence and grinned in a decidedly feral way,

"Well, Brigadier General Strife, you will be accompanying me to Shinra's private conference next week, won't you?"

Brigadier General Cloud Strife suddenly felt the first hints of lament at the promotion.

Cloud was back on duty, which meant that he had to get back down to business. After leaving Sephiroth's office, his first destination was to go straight back to his and Leon's room to take a long, cleansing shower. When he got out, Leon was half-laying, half-sitting on his own bed, his feet hanging off the side of the bed so as not to let his boots get the sheets dirty. Half-lidded stormy gray eyes scanned over his features appraisingly, and Cloud felt an inappropriate, momentary shiver of discomfort.

But before the feeling could begin to grow into anxiety, Leon began to speak, nipping that fantasy in the bud, "Cloud, you want to talk to me about something."

The blonde broke their eye connection and went to dig through the drawers for something comfortable to wear. He hadn't been out of his regular clothes and light armor in what seemed like weeks, so he was really dying for something soft and silky or downy to put on, manly pride be damned. He came out with a pair of chocobo-downy pajama pants with the big animals stitched into small chicks. He raised a brow at the little yellow creatures embroidered on his sleep wear and held up the piece of clothing, tilting it as if a better vantage point in the light would change something significant about the article of cloth.

There was a muffled, choked sound that had Cloud's eyes shooting back up to Leon. To the blonde's absolute shock, the older man was trying to force a laugh into a cough. Cloud scowled at him darkly and fisted his hands in the pajamas.

"Did you put this in here?"

"Are you kidding?" Leon half-scoffed, half-laughed hysterically.

Only a few beats passed before Cloud's shoulders and head dropped. He swore he could feel his pride vacating his body.

"Sephiroth."

Cloud had only a little bit to fume before Leon had swung his legs over the side of the bed so that he was sitting up and facing his friend.

"Is he what you want to talk about?"

The blonde soldier sighed and started to strip. It looked like the shower would have to wait. After he was comfortable in the ridiculous pajamas (which he had to admit he was appreciating. Damn Sephiroth), he sat on his bed across from where Leon was still patiently waiting for a response.

He didn't know what to say, didn't know what Leon was expecting, but he knew that he would have to say something, or else his best friend would never leave him in peace. Something had happened during their time in the North, on that small journey, something that warped their relationship in some way.

Cloud wasn't sure whether he was grateful or resentful for the change.

His hands threaded together, fingers clenching and knuckles turning white as he fought for the words spinning around his mind. Why was it so hard to just spit something out to appease Leon? No. The only words that were circling his head were the most important that needed to be said. The ones that would break their friendship completely. Cloud was almost there, he was just weeks away- if that- from the final rebellion… but he couldn't stand lying another moment.

He blamed the Clandestine influence that was surely still affecting him after all this time. Closing his eyes tightly, he opened his mouth and let the words out. If worse came to worse, he could just kill Leon, after all.

"I'm a traitor. I… work… no, I _am_ _with_ the West."

Leon's expression didn't change at all. His brows were still a bit tight over his stormy eyes, and his lips were drawn into a serious line. He didn't respond, so Cloud took that as initiative to go on. Gods knew that he needed to reveal this to his best friend after years of lying by omission.

"This isn't the way I wanted it to be…" That was true, but wouldn't it have been worse to act and not explain it at all to a friend he left behind? Giving a heads-up was better, right? "I never wanted to get close enough to anyone that hurting them would be a real possibility."

Finally, he spoke. Quietly, and icily, but he spoke, "It's impossible not to get close to anyone. Society is made by positive and negative attachments."

Cloud nodded in agreement, a cord in his mind flicking into clarity at the words. He knew where to start.

He lowered his eyes once more, afraid to see the reactions he would get from his friend, and just let go.

"Zack Fair. It's a name that all soldiers know, because he made history. Over a decade ago, he was the one that started, that allowed, the possibility of minors to become recruits, even soldiers. When he was seventeen he was instated as the youngest elite soldier ever before. He was a student under Angeal Hewley, one of the greatest soldiers of the Military. But something started happening. It was a triad of friendship. Sephiroth… he was best friends with Angeal and Genesis Rhapsodos, another elite. Then, he wasn't a General yet. The three of them were considered the pride of the Military. The poster boys. The example for the rest of humanity. Except Genesis disappeared, not long after Zack was an elite. After Genesis, Angeal left as well, until Zack was left with only Sephiroth as a somewhat-companion. That was when I met Zack for the first time, for real. I was just coming in as a recruit, aiming high but struggling. Zack started to train me, and it was then that I realized how much the Military had already screwed him over."

Cloud paused, chancing a glance up to see that Leon wasn't even looking at him anymore. He had moved so that he was laying down, arms crossed behind his head and staring at the ceiling. Supposing that was better than the man reaching for a sword, Cloud sighed,

"Because he was the youngest, he was pushed harder than everyone else. He really is a good man, and was a good kid, apparently, but the Military runs deep in him. He has these moments of extreme… violence. It's not always in action. Most of the time he just turns very, very cruel, lashing out at whoever or whatever displeased him. I saw this, after he took me in as his pupil, and tried my best to quell that part of him. That darkness. Because he was one of the best people I knew. A heart of gold in the middle of a sea of onyx crags. It pissed me off, sometimes. When he would yell at me over something as small as a misplaced foot. I would get so angry. But then he would smile at me, and everything would be alright again. I saw him as my older brother. We became good friends… best friends. He was my role model, I was his charge. But then he disappeared, leaving me and Sephiroth behind."

Leon's eyes were on him again, sharp and intelligence flickering behind the stormy gray irises, but Cloud went on without pause, not sure if he was even able to stop anymore,

"I was still a teenager, then. Not even a week after that, Zack came to my barracks one night, and told me of the things he had learned, of the Church, and of the Military's corruption. It was a lot to take in at first. I was young, after all. But he kept telling me 'I can't stay, I serve a greater purpose. But you must take my place.'. After explaining it, I finally realized. Zack had been chosen by the mother Angel, Aerith, to be her Guardian. He told me that I had to become his replacement. That I HAD to become an elite, and take over the South Branch HQ when it was time. I didn't know how to refuse. I was broken-hearted. It had always been my dream to be a soldier, to be like Sephiroth, but then I learned that the Military dream was a farce. I joined the West then, because I saw a greater cause. A greater dream. Zack had helped me see it, but after I began to think, I saw it myself. Does that make sense?"

A twitch of a nod and flick of fingers telling him to continue.

"Zack contacted me every other week, finding out how I was doing and assuring me that everything would be okay. I felt so, so alone. And that's when I met Sephiroth. I was sure I was going to blow everything, that that was the final straw, but Zack just smiled and told me that I had just won my first big victory. Sephiroth, for some reason, took a liking to me, and helped me to become an elite. And there it is. That's how I became an ultimate traitor. There's not much else to tell, I think. I've been lying since I was sixteen years old."

Silence rang in the room after Cloud's words faded into nothing. The blonde shifted uncomfortably on his own bed, reaching over and running an idle hand over the hilt of his trusty sword. Leon hadn't moved, was still digesting all that was said. Seconds passed into minutes, until Cloud gave up and laid all the way down, facing the wall. He was hesitant to actually let himself fall asleep, but he was so exhausted. He was tired of hiding the truth and fearing the consequences of his actions.

Why the hell was it so bad for him to tell his best friend his biggest secret? It wasn't fair. And he was fucking sick of all the stress. He just wanted one night's sleep in total peace.

Eventually his weariness took him over and he passed into slumber without even knowing.

When he woke up, it was to the insistent prodding of a battle-worn hand. Leon was hovering over him, eyes distant. Cloud rolled slightly so that he could peer up at the digital clock above their door. No alarm had sounded, but it was already after seven in the morning. He had slept an entire day, through the evening and morning announcements. He groaned, sitting up.

"Leon?"

"You are an ally to the enemy. I am an ally to the ally to the enemy." The brunette said simply, his eyes shining with decision, "I wanted you to know that there was an attack on the Cathedral of Hearts. While we were in the North."

"I know," Cloud murmured, remembering the strange episode he'd had, when he had stood before Sora in a corporeal form and tried to lend him strength. He had forgotten about that… it had already been almost a week since that moment, "but what can I do? We would have heard news if the attack was successful."

"…we could go."

Cloud looked up at him in unadulterated surprise. The scarred man smiled slightly and tilted his head,

"You can't fool me, Cloud Strife. I know that you're worried. Let's go."

"What about Sephiroth? We just returned."

"Tell him you want a holiday. You've never taken one before, he'll have to grant your request."

"And you?"

The smile widened, but Cloud could see that it was half-forced.

"I've never been the holiday sort. But since I'm concerned for your health, still…"

He was speechless. He couldn't fathom how it was working out like this. Nothing that he feared was happening, for once. Everything was going in the direction he wanted it to. He was still working towards the goal of equality between the Church and Military, and still had his best friend, the person closest to him in the world besides Zack and Aerith.

Once he regained his mind, though, he gave the biggest smile he'd ever shown Leon before.

Leon just smirked back and basked in the glow.

The brunette was just glad that his dearest friend was safe from the Military's brain-washing methods. However, he couldn't say that Cloud was clear of danger. No, the blonde was in deep.

But Leon would see through it with him until the end.

**AN: Because this was completely raw and rushed, please tell me if there are any errors/inconsistencies. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed it and urge you to review if you're confused/in love with this story. My baby needs help with revitalization. T~T  
SEE YOU ALL NEXT CHAPTER! ;D **


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